Unit 15
by Danielle Christine
Summary: It had taken them forever to reach Washington. Terminus had left them shattered. Now here they were: Searching out another place and situation that they couldn't rely on to be a safe choice. The massive skyscraper startled them, but its gates offered protection. It was the people inside that they were afraid of. But should they be? (Lots of Rick/Eventual Richonne. LONG story)
1. Welcome to Home Unit 15

**A/N: *Disclaimer* I have no affiliation with the Walking Dead or any of the characters with the show. Just a fan! Also, I just wanted to say that this is new to me, and I would greatly appreciate any reviews, good or bad. If you like the story, follow it. I'm not sure yet where I'm going with this, and any ideas would also be appreciated. I hope you guys like it. We have some old favorite characters, as well as some fresh out of my imagination. Enjoy!**

It seemed to take them forever to reach Washington. The group had thinned some, leaving only the nine of them left. Rick, Carl, Michonne, Carol, Daryl, Maggie, Glenn, Abraham and Eugene. The rest had been lost along the way. The journey to Washington was a long one, with a lot of stops and heartache. It had taken a lot out of them. Now they were finally there, and they weren't even sure if it was for any good reason.

"Have to admit, it doesn't look half bad," Michonne commented as they walked down the street. "Most of the buildings have been boarded. There's no cars just littering the streets. No walker bodies laying around."

"What's with the red 15's on everything?," Glenn asked as he squeezed Maggies hand reassuringly.

"I'm sure there's some sort of reason for it," Rick said as he peaked through the windows of the closest store front. He noticed that they were wiped clean. Figured they probably all were.

"Some sorta trackin' system," Daryl commented as he looked inside another.

"If anyone of importance is here, I'd have to guess they'd be holed up at the White house," Abraham guessed. So they continued forward, following the map they had until they had come to what was left of the place. It was roped off, but looked to have been part of an explosion, as half of it was missing completely.

"Someone's taking care of this place," Carol said as they stopped to rest. She leaned against a building. "There's no walkers out here. No mess. I mean, aside from the obvious," She said gesturing back toward the white house. She ran her hand through her hair. At that exact moment, a bee buzzed by Carols head, and landed on her shoulder. Carol was a strong woman, but damned if she didn't hate bees. She jumped and turned, giving her eyes a whole other view of the street behind them. One sign was all it took to put them on the right path. "Guys," she motioned for them to come over. "Abraham! Is this was we're looking for?"

The sign was large, painted to the side of the building. "HOME UNIT 15, THIS WAY. BY ORDER OF THE PRESIDENT." Then in smaller print. "By order of the president of the free world, and of Home Unit 15. If you come upon this sign, you are to report directly to Home Unit 15 to contribute in the rebuilding of America. Unit President: S. Malone."

In another place, this sign would've meant certain death. They had followed the signs to Terminus, and they all knew how well that worked out for them. But isn't this what they came here for? To help in the reconstruction of the lives they used to know? To be helpful? With nothing left to lose, they followed the signs.

* * *

"We have a supply retrieval mission in the morning. Please inform all available men and women that we depart at sunrise. General, see if any of your men are willing to accompany. No one has time for babysitting so please make sure all needed information is given before departure," Stephanie Malone said as she rested against her high backed leather chair and threw her hair into a messy pony tail.

The conference room was basic, clean as Stephanie commanded. The world around them might have been in utter chaos, but there was no reason Home Unit 15 should ever be. There were seven troops in the unit, each one designated a specialty that helped Unit 15 run smoothly and more efficiently then most of the other sixty Units in the world. Each troop had a leader, and each unit had a president. Every night the eight of them gathered in this conference room, President Stephanie Malone at its head.

To Stephanie's right sat General Alexander Pierce, head of Troop 1, defense. He was an older man in his sixties, an army general before the world was infected with Ophioyaws, or in more understandable terms, zombies. Next to him was Dr. Manuela Vasquez, head of Troop 2, medicine and recovery. Manuela graduated at the top of her class from Harvard Medical School, seven years before the outbreak. She had received her first grant for Ophioyaws research when the once carefully contained disease began to spread like wildfire. Stephanie felt privileged to have her on her team, especially since she was the one that had discovered a variation of the cure that could potentially put this world back in order.

To Manuela's right sat Private Gordon Levitz, Troop 3 leader, secondary in defense and Unit police. He was young, mid 20's with a strong head on his shoulders. Next was Vincent Furillo, Troop 4. His group ran the retrieval missions and collected supplies that couldn't be provided, for the Unit and all the residents inside. Vincent had an urge for excitement and the ability to think quick in high pressure was younger, around Stephanie's age and had been best friends with her husband, Ian, before he had become infected and disappeared.

Troop 5 leader, mousy Valerie Smith, ran the home division. She took direction of the care of the units children, and well as of preparation of daily meals and the cleanliness of their home. Troop 6 was agriculture, led by cocky, angry and annoying Kevin McAllister. He led the care of the livestock and the produce fields in the 12 ft tall gates behind the sky scrapper they occupied in what was once known as Washington DC.

Finally, troop 7. Led by efficient and genius Tabitha Womack. Troop 7 was one of the most vital troops in the unit, and assured that the unit would have running water and electrical services throughout this apocalyptic type era in time. Where once technology and running water was vast in the world, they had become obsolete due to the fact that there weren't enough people to keep things running. Luckily, a few smart people, like Tabitha Womack, made it once again possible with generators, solar panels and brains.

After the vast spread of Ophioyaws disease, cities ceased to exist. Populations dropped by the thousands in each state daily until whatever uninfected they could find were finally gathered and located in one safe place, known as a Unit. Each place was simply labeled by the state or even in some cases the continent in which it once occupied, and each state allowed one safe Unit. Washington, as it was now simply known, held Unit 15. Stephanie's unit.

Ophioyaws hit the world hard two years before. Only a select few people in cahoots with CDC (center for disease control) knew of its existence until 3 months before the massive outbreak. The disease itself was said to have come from Europe with one person who had contracted Yaws disease. This disease causes painful sores on the contractors face, legs, arms and feet. This same person then contracted a parasitic fungus, a species of Ophiocordyceps. Once this happened, the yaws was no longer treatable and effectively killed the carrier. As soon as the heart stopped pumping blood, the fungus spread rapidly through out the corpse, and settled into its brain, causing the corpse to reanimate and to seek out human flesh. The parasite receives its nourishment from the live blood cells it ingests, keeping the "zombie" moving and eating. This was the quickest way the virus killed.

Sadly, it was also airborne, and once you were around someone who had contracted it, the virus itself burrowed into your brain, waiting for the brain stem to shut down. Once it did, the virus jump starts, and reanimates.

Once you have been bitten, the virus takes anywhere from 30 seconds to 6 hours to kill, consume and revive. It took a year and a half year for Manuela to discover a variation of the cure. OYR (Ophioyaws Revival) not only kills the fungus upon vaccination but also kick starts the heart, which in turn sends blood through to the rest of the brain. In Unit 15 they have captured and immunized over 200 of the infected. Sadly, before the cure was perfected, they killed the majority of them. But the last ten seemed to be a success, and were being carefully monitored by troop 2 in the basement of the complex.

"It's getting late and we have a big day ahead of us, ladies and gents. So let's get started, shall we?," Stephanie said looking from person to person. "General. Please inform us on the status of Troop 1." The troop leaders took turns, specifying what they needed for their different divisions.

"Vincent, is all set for the run tomorrow?"

"I have ten men and women including myself ready to go . Looking forward to being out there in the excitement." Vincent had always been somewhat of a thrill seeker. The essential bad boy, Stephanie hadn't even liked him when he had been best friends with her husband. If anything, Steph was always trying to keep Ian as far away from Vincent as possible, claiming that he was a bad influence. Now, she couldn't even imagine Vincent not being there to have her back. He had become her best friend through the chaos, and she was so grateful for him. It was just a shame that she couldn't tell Ian that he was right about Vince all along.

"Be sure your troops know their orders. I don't want to have to run through it in the morning," she sighed. Vincent swallowed hard, not knowing that

Stephanie herself was planning on coming along.

"I wasn't aware that you were planning on coming with us, President Malone," he said calling her the formal name that he knew she couldn't stand.

"I wasn't aware that I had to inform you on my personal decisions, Vincent." Vince leaned back against the seat and crossed his arms, obviously frustrated. The tension flared between them and the group shared an awkward silence before Stephanie moved on to the next person. Finally, it was Dr. Manuela Vasquez's turn and all eyes found her expectantly.

"Doctor Vasquez. Please inform us on the state of Troop 2." Manuela smiled genuinely at each of her fellow leaders and stood, bowing slightly.

"Well, as you all know, the developed cure for Ophioyaws is currently being tested and is beginning to show signs of success." Everyone around the table claps. "Thanks guys, but as exciting as this is, we are not out of the woods yet. We have tried variations of the cure on over 200 of the infected since Spring. Now Winter is upon us and our success rate is only 1 percent. Granted, it's pretty much taken us this long to find a variation that hasn't immediately killed the carrier."

"You've done amazing things, Manuela. You are the reason our Unit is number one. We're very proud of the progress you've made, not to mention the pride that you have brought to our home Unit," Steph said sincerely as the others nodded in agreement.

"Thank you."

"How many unaffected are currently being treated in hospice and for what ailments?."

"Sixteen. Most are for due to the change in weather and the colds that accompany it. Then there's the few who have never left hospice with incurable mainstream diseases. Nothing has come up that is out of the ordinary."

"And how many do we have in the Oph treatment center?"

"All 40 beds are occupied in recovery except 3. We're pleased to say those 3 beds are empty because 3 people are being held in a special observation chamber, due to the fact that the cure seems to be working."

"What do you mean working? Are these people coherent? Can they communicate?," McCallister asked quickly. Stephanie knew the answers to these questions, but if Kevin hadn't asked, she would have said nothing. Manuela smiled.

"We will be holding a special conference Friday night to tell our people the results, but since I know you are all trustworthy and won't share the news before its time, yes. They are coherent and are communicating with us. This conference isn't just for the people of our Unit, but will be televised throughout the other 59 units and to the Supreme President himself so that we can tell him of our findings and get this variation of the cure worldwide." Another round of applause erupts from the 8 troop leaders and from Stephanie herself.

"What is it that your troop needs to gain from our retrieval mission tomorrow, Doctor?," Stephanie inquired while making notes in her journal.

"Of course we need any medical supplies that you come across. And as you mentioned earlier, we need three more infected brought in for potential treatment. Please remember that the ideal candidate is walking, between the ages of 5 and 50, with no visible head or heart trauma, and recently turned. For a best case scenario, we want to have to fight only the disease itself. Any other affliction will complicate the healing process."

"Noted. Thank you, Manuela. Is there any other business any one would like to discuss, or questions any one has for any other troop leaders?," All hands shot up. "Any questions not regarding the cure, in which we will discuss at length during the conference Friday?," she corrected. The hands went down. "In that case, have a good night everyone. We will reconvene on Wednesday night when we return from our mission. In the interim, please be aware that General Pierce is in charge until my return. Meeting dismissed."

* * *

Ricks group stood silently, staring up at the large skyscraper that loomed before them. How they hadn't seen it through everything was beyond them. It was massive, and it had lights on. Electricity. They couldn't even imagine.

Twelve foot walls encircled the perimeter. They could see the guards on top of them, but they didn't notice them yet, too busy joking with each other. Rick stepped forward, calling out.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," he called out. They turned to him, guns raised. Rick held up his hands. "We're here to help." They lowered their guns and pushed pulled a lever, opening the gates.

"That's all we needed to hear," they said smiling. "Keep your weapons, but don't try any funny stuff, because we have no problems putting you down if need be." The group nodded, understanding, as they walked hesitantly through the gates.

"Welcome to Home Unit 15," a grounded soldier said, reaching out and shaking Ricks hand, sensing that he was their leader. "I hope ya'll will like it here."

**A/N: So, okay. I know it's starting off a little slow. But it's only the beginning. I really hope you keep reading because there's going to be so much happening! :) This story is not just going to be a ten chapter and done story.. I've got separate parts planned. I know there's no Richonne in this chapter, but just because it's not laced with smut doesn't mean it's not going to be just as entertaining. (Not that there's anything wrong with smut.) ;) You have to be invested in the whole story line to get to the good stuff. Eventually, I will earn the M rating. Hope you stick with me and see what happens! Thanks for reading guys! Don't forget to review and follow! I update _almost_ daily. **


	2. Gotta be patient, doll

The troop leaders stood and departed, with the exception of Vincent and Stephanie who stay behind glaring at each other.

"Don't ever question me in front of my crew again, Vince." she stated firmly.

"Then don't surprise me in front of the crew, Steph. A little heads up would've been great." Vince leaned forward as Stephanie leaned back, closing her eyes and sighing.

"You're right. I should've told you. I'm sorry," she said, peeking at him slightly.

"I'm sorry, too," he replied almost too quiet to be heard. Stephanie lowered her head in her hands, exhaustion sweeping in. The meeting ran a little longer then normal, and with the morning looming over her head, she knew she would once again go sleepless. It had been a few weeks since her last excursion beyond the safety of the unit, but she knew she would never find Ian if she didn't get out there.

She didn't hear Vincent stand up, but she felt his hands as they found her shoulders and began to massage gently.

"You push yourself too hard," he said. "You need to find the time to relax. Have some _you _time."

"Who has time to relax? Or even sleep for that matter. I'm lucky if I can get an hour or two of shut eye each night. Someone always needs something. I don't think I'm cut out for this Vince. It's been almost two years since this Unit opened, and a for almost two years, I've been known as President Malone. Before the outbreak, I was a school teacher for Christs sake. I thought it would all get easier as time went on, but it hasn't. And I'm just so tired. I don't think I'll ever understand why President Jackson chose me to head this unit." He gently pushed Stephanie forward so that she was leaning over the table, and began to massage her back in circles.

"He chose you because you led a group of over 60 people to the safety of the white house before the explosion. You've gained these civilians trust and respect. This is a democracy. They chose you for Unit leader, Steph." She pushed back and stood up slowly, letting his hands fall away.

"They shouldn't have," she argued. "What do you think Ian would think of all of this? Of me? This," she said waving her hands in front of herself for emphasis, "This is not the woman he married." she said to her husbands best friend.

"Ian would be so proud of you," he said gripping her shoulders. "He will be proud of you. He's out there somewhere, sick, and now that we have the cure we will find him and bring him home."

"You don't know that he hasn't been exterminated already. You can't possibly know. And even if he is still out there, you don't know if he's a candidate for revival."

"You can't loose faith, Stephanie. In a world this fucked up and this difficult, hope is the only thing we have." She nodded.

"I have you, too," Stephanie said touching his shoulder gently. She felt a shock and pulled back, blushing slightly. "I don't know what I would do without you," she whispered. Vincent smiled at her.

"Always," he whispered, looking down. He cleared his throat and stood straight, trying to get their conversation back to a comfortable level. "Get some sleep, President Malone. We depart at sunrise," he said with a wink.

"Goodnight," she replied as she watched him walk from the room and head to the elevator. She stayed behind a few minutes longer, trying to regain her composure and look like she actually had a clue what she was doing, before walking out of the conference room.

One of the front gate guards from Troop 4 hurried down the hall toward her. She sighed, knowing that her night was far from over. "What can I do for you, soldier?," she asked tiredly.

"We met some stragglers out front. A group of nine." Stephanie was surprised by that news. It had been almost 3 months since any one had come upon Unit 15. The few times that someone from the outside had come in, they usually didn't last. Being on the outside for so long, surviving in the conditions they were in, they just weren't capable of surviving in a thriving, more normal environment. They either killed themselves, hurt someone else and got thrown in the brig, or they just disappeared all together.

"Take them to TL Smith, Troop 5, for rooms and a change of clothes. A hot meal."

"The leader wants to speak with you right away." _Of course he does, _she thought to herself. She usually did meet with new people right away, to check out their mental states and make sure they weren't a threat to her or her people. She planned on it some time during the remainder of the night, but she wanted to grab a bite to eat, first. Hell, she could just kill two birds with one stone, she supposed.

"Take them to 5.," she repeated briskly. " Tell Troop leader Smith that they are to be taken directly to the wardrobe for fresh sets of clothes and assigned rooms. They can settle and shower. Then you, soldier, are to meet them back on level 5 in precisely one hour and bring them upstairs to my room for supper. Also inform TL Smith to inform the kitchen of my dinner guests."

"Yes, ma'am," he responded promptly and set out on his way.

The top floor of the complex was designated for the unit leaders, their families and for Stephanie. Usually, on her way home from the ground level conference room, she would stop at each level on the way up, check in on things and make sure everything was running smoothly. But tonight her mind and body were drained, and she couldn't muster up enough energy for the half hour excursion from the ground to the top. And now, she had a damn dinner to get ready for as well.

The elevator opened up to the common area, where the level TV and VCR/DVD player were. The Generals children, Maxine and Rodney, were playing with a board game on the floor while their stiff and proper mother, Betsy, crocheted a sweater on the sofa. An old Disney movie played on the television screen, The children turned at the sound of the opening elevator and their faces lit up with pleasure at seeing Stephanie emerge.

"Stephi!," the youngest, Rodney, cried as he ran over and wrapped his little 3 year old arms around her legs. "I missed you today!," he exclaimed. Stephanie smiled and swooped him up for a bear hug as his mother glared at them.

"I missed you, too, buddy," she replied smiling at Betsy even though she knew it would never be returned.

"Hey!," five year old Maxine exclaimed as she stood pouting with her hands on her hips. "What about me?" Stephanie set Rodney down and walked to Maxine, giving her a huge hug.

"How was your day today?," she asked as she ruffled her hair.

"Fine, I guess. But after my sewing lesson Mommy put on Aladdin for the kajillionth time and it's driving me crazy!," she said the way an overdramatic five year old would. "Can you get me a new movie, Stephi?"

"I'll do my best, kid." Betsy cleared her throat and stood, putting her yarn in her bag.

"Time for bed, children," she commanded. Betsy had never liked Stephanie. Stephanie thought it was perhaps the fact that she had been chosen as president over the general, but she could never be sure. She did know that Betsy hated the fact that her children had become so fond of her over the years.

The kids pouted but obediently followed their mother to their sleeping rooms. With the common area now empty, Stephanie made her way to her door.

* * *

"President Malone has given me specific instructions. Please follow me," the soldier who returned to him said. They were silently brought into a large sitting area in what was probably once a large, fancy hotel lobby. People walked in and out of the area, glancing at them curiously, but said nothing as they went about their business.

Ricks family walked toward the elevators, and the soldier ushered them all inside. Rick looked at himself in the mirrors inside the elevator, at all of them. They were full of grime and walker blood, a mess compared to the people they had just seen on the other side of those elevator doors. The soldier pressed 15, and a few seconds later the elevator came to a stop, the doors opening to a large sitting room. Children and families were everywhere, and Carl's eyes widened at the sight of a group of teenagers huddled in the furthest corner. Rick reached out and touched his shoulder. Carl looked at him and smiled.

"Stay, please," the soldier commented before sauntering off to talk to a young woman who smiled over at them, warming each of them like a ray of sunshine. She walked over to them and clapped her hands together.

"I'm so happy ya'll found us," she said hugging each of them. While the groups arms circled her awkwardly, or in some cases not at all, she hugged each of them genuinely, and bless her heart, she didn't cringe at the smell.

"Please excuse Mr. Soldier man over there. Those Troop 4 boys are all business. My names TL Valerie Smith, and I'm so pleased to meet ya. Come on ya'll," she said leading them down a hallway that they assumed held the bedrooms.

"What's the TL stand for?," Daryl asked gruffly. She smiled at him.

"Troop leader, but you'll learn all about that later when you meet President Malone. First things first," she said closing the silence gap so they would feel more comfortable. "Ya'll are gonna want some fresh clothes to change into after yer showers."

"Showers?," Michonne whispered to Carol, who smiled back. The idea of a warm shower seemed like something out of their dreams. Rick pushed his way through his family until he stood next to Valerie.

"And when's that gonna happen?," he asked briskly. "Don't get me wrong, a shower sounds mighty tempting, but my minds spinning. I need to know what's going on around here. How ya'll manage all this." She smiled at Rick as they reached the room at the end of the hall.

"The young man told me ya'll would be having dinner with President Malone in an hour or so and all your questions will be answered then. Ya just gotta be patient, doll," Valerie said with a smile before she flung the door open. "Ya can pick 3 outfit's a piece. You're allowed 3 per month, in the event of damage. Yer undergarments are over there against the windows. All the womens clothing is on the left, mens on the right, and childrens in the middle. All sizes, so don't none of ya worry."

The women were like kids in a candy store, and Rick smiled as he watched even Daryl pick through the clothing rack, a half grin on his face. He shrugged, tired of fighting, thinking that a shower sounded damn good, and the rest he supposed he would just find out at dinner. Like the woman said, he just had to be patient.

**A/N: Hope you guys are liking it. More tomorrow. :)**


	3. You're not gonna win

Troop 3 Leader, Vincent Furillo, had a room down the hall and around the corner from Stephanie's suite. He usually waited for her in the lobby. He would sip a mud thick cup of a gritty coffee like substance and thumb through an old book, trying to look as if he was _not _waiting up to make sure she got to her quarters safe.

Usually, he'd have a half hour to clean up while she made her rounds, but she must've taken his advice tonight and come to rest early. He was just walking back to the lobby when he heard the distinct ding of the elevator. For some reason he paused instead of continuing on. Vince watched her swoop up the commanders children while Betsy glared on. He was unseen down the hall, hiding behind the corner, and seeing her smile like that instantly and without warning tugged at his heart.

Vince knew she would make an amazing mother. He knew that she and Ian had planned on having a big family some day. He also knew that it would probably never happen with the way the world had been going to shit lately. Although now that Manuela has developed a cure, anything was possible. But he guess in order to have a family, you need a man. Ian was no longer present, seeing as he had become an unwilling part of the problem. So it just didn't seem like it would happen for her. Unless she were to find someone else, that is. Someone who would love her and take care of her and be an amazing father. Someone like him, maybe.

He yelled at himself for his thoughts and immediately felt the guilt sweep in. She's Ian's wife. Ian. Remember him? Ian was only his best friend since grammar school. Ian. The same kid who glued Tom Cleary's car door locks after he got Vince suspended from school. Ian. The man who talked him into joining the police force after high school, the best decision he had ever made in his life. Vince was best man at their wedding for crying out loud!

He knew he had no business thinking about the possibility of starting a family with Ians wife. Even the thought made him feel like an asshole. But if he could've seen her like the way Vince did, he didn't think he would've been able to blame him. She had a small smudge of dirt on the front of her shirt, and her jet black hair was pulled loosely into a pony tail. Her green eyes sparkled with laughter as she twirled small Rodney and hugged Maxine. Her smile literally lit up the apocalypse.

He would've understood, Vince knew it. Stephanie was absolutely stunning. And brave. And smart. And strong. Once the children went with their mother, Vince walked out into the hall, and waited by Stephanies door.

"Took my advice?," he asked with a smile.

"I wish. A group just arrived at the gate. Valerie is setting them up in 5 now. They're going to be coming to join me for dinner shortly." Vincent furrowed his eye brows.

"Dinner with you and who else?"

"No one else. I always meet the newcomers on my own."

"Not in your personal quarters though." Valerie rested her head against the door to her room. She was exhausted and didn't want to argue anymore.

"Vince. It's settled. Go eat and get some sleep. You're not going to win."

"How many?"

"Nine. I'll have security right outside the door for protection, just in case, not that I couldn't handle myself if need be. I've been through training, too, remember?"

"Bring them by my room when you're done so I can introduce myself," he said noting the frustrated tone in her voice, and deciding to chose his battles. He was curious about them, though. It had been so long since someone new had shown up to the Unit.

Stephanie nodded, acknowledging his request and let herself inside the room.

She threw herself down on her couch, and took a deep breath. Glancing at the wall clock, she could tell she didn't have much time left before they arrived. She flirted briefly with the idea of changing her clothes to provide a better first impression, but then shrugged it off just as easy. She was who she was. Her eyes closed, and the quiet surrounded her. She was almost asleep when she heard the knock at the door.

**A/N: So, I realize that this chapter is miniscule compared to the others. I also realize that there is no TWD characters in this chapter specifically. If you're enjoying the story, stick with it. I've got big ideas here, and it's just going to take some build up, is all. If you like the story, follow it. Review it. Let me know what you think. Thanks so much for your support. I appreciate you! :)**


	4. All thats left of the rest of the world

CHAPTER 4

Rick stood with the group outside of a door that read, 'President S. Malone'. Rick found himself wondering about the guy a lot during their brief journey from level 15 to the top floor of the building. From what the Valerie lady said, the president sounded like a stand up guy. But a lot of people seemed that way at first, revealing their true colors only when it would devastate them the most.

Their escort, the soldier, stood in front of the group, completely still with his hands behind his back. It took a minute for the door to open, but when it did Rick couldn't see anyone at all. "President Malone," the soldier stated firmly.

"Thank you, Soldier," a soft, and surprisingly feminine voice responded. "Dismissed." He stepped out of the way and just slightly down the hall, where he sat at what Rick assumed was his post. His eyes followed the man for a minute and then focused on the woman standing in the door way, previously completely shadowed by the soldier.

She looked drained, tired, but she was still visually appealing. Her eyes were a deep green, and her dark hair had been messily tied back. She was clean, aside from a small dirt smudge on her shirt. She had dimples in her cheeks when she smiled, and Rick immediately found her presence somewhat…comforting.

"Welcome to Unit 15," she said with as much energy as she could muster. "Please, come in. Dinner's getting cold." She stepped back and allowed them to enter. The room was the largest in the building, assigned to her by the Supreme President himself, even after she told him it was unnecessary. She led them to her dining room, and a table long enough to sit twelve. The group looked around, Glenn whistling through his teeth at the sight of an honest to goodness deluxe penthouse suite hotel room that looked completely untouched by the outside world.

"I'm President Stephanie Malone, but I urge you all to drop the formalities and call me Steph," she said reaching out to shake Rick's hand first, realizing just on sight that he was their leader. Rick and the group took turns introducing themselves, before they nervously sat down to dinner.

"We have a lot of questions," Rick stated as he looked to the group and then back to Stephanie. Everyone sat around the table, nervous in their own ways. Carl was

"Of course you do. And we will address them all after dinner. Please," she said motioning to the small feast they had before them. "You all must be hungry. Help yourselves." That was all the invitation they needed to begin digging in. Once their bellys were full and their plates empty, Stephanie led them to her seating area, which was big enough to seat all of them comfortably.

"It's easiest to ask you what_ you_ know about what's happening out there, first."

Rick walked her through what they had discovered at the CDC, and what Abraham and Eugene wanted to accomplish by coming to Washington. He left out stories of those they lost along the way, of the Governor and Terminus. He did tell her a little bit about what life was like outside the fence. The fact that the people were generally more worrisome then the walkers. She sat forward, listening intently.

"…which has led us here.," he concluded. "Anyone have anything they'd like to add?," he asked the group. No one said anything, so Stephanie spoke.

"It couldn't be easy for you, after everything that happened, to come here and trust us. I understand your apprehension. Although you haven't mentioned it specifically, I'm sure you've suffered losses along the way. I'm sorry for that. But I can guarantee that you're safe here," she said sympathetically, leaning forward in a chair that sat facing them all. Rick wasn't sure why, but he believed her.

"Now, let me tell you all the truth about what's been happening, not only here but in the entire world." Stephanie started off explaining the disease itself, Ophioyaws, while everyone, especially Eugene, listened intently.

"Once the president had become infected, and then the vice president and so on, it was up to the next in succession to make a decision as to what we were going to do as a nation. As a race. That was before the white house had exploded, before we lost briefly lost communication with the rest of the world. So during a viral meeting with the rest of the world leaders, they developed system, a plan. Each viable state would take the largest building, the one that would house the most people, and put all of its resources into protecting it. And from there in, until the cure for the disease is perfected and distributed, each building and state, country or continent, would have one President to look after its function and growth." The group looked confused, which she was prepared for.

"Let me help you understand," she said standing up and turning off the lights. She flipped another switch on the wall and a screen fell from the ceiling, a projector shining behind it. She showed them a map of the world. There were 60 small dots scattered across the globe. "There's 15 safe zones in the United States," she continued to explain. She held a hand held power point presenter and pressed the button, pulling up a list.

"As you can see, they're all set up in Coastal states. It was just unfortunate that you guys traveled from Georgia, which doesn't hold a Unit, and I'm assuming you traveled straight through, probably never hearing of one either. But we've been here, since the beginning, working with our government and world leaders, trying to retake control of the situation." She clicked another button, bringing up a list of the other safe zones in the rest of the world.

"That's all that's left of the rest of the world?," Carol asked quietly, surprised there were so few.

"No. These are the only _Units_ left in the world, the only organized Government facilities. These are the people we keep in contact with, the ones we can directly communicate with."

"How do you communicate with them?," Rick inquired.

"Supreme President Johnson, with the help of a team of experts, created a computerized contact system, linking each Unit to the other. We have video conferences, phone calls and email."

"And all these places are run by different people, who all report to the same man. Supreme President Johnson?," Michonne added, trying to get all of the facts straight. Stephanie nodded.

"I know how hard it is to take in," she said sympathetically.

"So when did this system get set up? Did the government prepare for this? I mean, is this some kind of government conspiracy or something?," Maggie inquired as she tried to wrap her head around the idea of a government still even in existence.

"No. Quite the opposite really. From what I understand, we were aware of the disease, but we never saw this coming. How could we really? It spread so fast. Once the disease began to spread it was just impossible to control. Everything I've told you about took place between day one of the original outbreak in the United States, the first day that they reported 1,500 globally dead, and a month after."

"Jus' wait a second," Daryl chimed in, as if something finally occurred to him. "You said there's a cure. Did I hear ya right?" Stephanie smiled.

"In every Unit, there is a lab, and in those labs we have had scientists working around the clock to try to find a solution to this epidemic. You just happened to stumble into the best damn Unit in the world, my friends," she said smiling. She wasn't supposed to tell them, she knew that. But she liked these people for some reason. They seemed genuine, a nice mix of the people that used to occupy the earth. "Troop 2 Leader, Dr. Manuela Vasquez, is our head scientist. She has currently developed what we appear to be a cure to the Ophioyaws plague."

Rick looked around the group, a smile breaking out across his face in disbelief. There was a cure. The world some day return to normal. They began to smile slowly, one by one, before the group of them were laughing and hugging each other.

"We're very happy with the discovery as well. But please," she said raising her hands to calm them down. "I must ask you to keep this information to yourself. Only select members of the Unit are privileged enough to know how successful we have been. The rest won't know until Fridays Press Conference with S.P Johnson." They nodded their understanding, all still smiling. "Speaking of Johnson, let me introduce you to him. Well, kind of…"

She clicked another button, and a video appeared on screen. The caption "Alan Johnson" appeared below the older black man. Rick noticed he had a kind look to him, soft eyes and a trusting smile.

Then the large screen split into 60 smaller screens. An array of different men and women, all voting from their safe houses, all electing Alan Johnson to lead them. You could imagine being told that you were basically going to lead the free world would be a happy experience, but Supreme President Johnson instead sat stoically while the screen was once again focused on him. He smiled, showing his gratitude, but also his compassion for the situation at hand. The group watched him intently, all trying to understand this new reality, which seemed too unbelievable to accept.

"I thank you, brothers and sisters, for your trust. Our world has suffered more the last weeks then it has in it's existance, and it is time that we all come together, all nations that are willing, to try and fix the situation. Billions upon billions of our people are gone. _We_ are the newest endangered species, and it warms my heart that you have chosen me to lead us back into joyous times. My biggest regret will always be that not every nation has chosen to join us, and that those good people will continue to experience such loss and devastation. And I will do everything in my power to assure our survival and our growth as we continue to fight this disease and one day, put it all behind us as we rebuild our towns, homes and cities. I urge our Unit leaders, the ones chosen before me, to try to get the word out to the nearby towns and cities, where the local Units are held so they may come to safety…"

Stephanie continued her presentation for the next hour. She showed them photos and video from different parts of the world. The devastation was immense but unsurprising to them. She handed them each a small book, that explained more in detail about the way the world would be now. Then she explained how each unit worked, the different positions, the different troops, and the roles you could play within it. She handed them each another paper, an application of sorts, that they were to fill out before they left her room so that she could determine their stability and to see where they would fit in within the Unit.

Glancing at the clock, she could see the hour was getting late. "I hope I've answered all your questions for the day, and anything we didn't touch on should be in the book I've given you. Once you are assigned to a troop, you will receive another instructional book and receive training for your specific field. We have rules here, and you are expected to follow them. If you do not, you may end up in the brig, and in serious circumstances, as bad as it sounds, you might even face corporal punishment. These are the rules as follows," she said reading from the book in her hand.

" 1. You are expected to perform your duties in a professional and timely manner.

2. Physical violence of any type is strictly forbidden among _all_ Unit members.

3. No stealing. You will be provided for accordingly.

4. Sexual harassment and/or rape will not be tolerated.

5. Domestic violence will not be tolerated.

6. There is no entry to Level B, without prior clearance.

7. There is no entry to the Leaders quarters without Soldier supervision, under any circumstances, unless directed by the Unit President and given written permission.

8. You are free to leave at any time, but are asked to inform the Unit President before your departure, so that you are accounted for."

9. Children under the age of 16 are expected to attend school and survival lessons daily unless deemed ill by a troop 2 member. No exceptions."

10. If you become pregnant while in our facility, you must follow through with said pregnancy." She set the list down.

"Do these rules seem like something you can follow?," she asked as she once again sat in front of them. The group nodded. "These rules are also listed in the books I handed out, as well explanations and reasons for each. At this time, I'd like for you to fill out your paperwork. I'll go over them tonight and post your assignments in the West elevator, so you can find them in the morning. Once you're _all_ finished, you're free to leave. The young man outside will bring you back to your temporary rooms.," she concluded with a smile.

While the group filled out their paperwork, some skeptically, others quickly and full of excitement, Stephanie walked into the dining room and began to clear away their dishes from dinner. Rick looked up, halfway through, and studied her for a moment. It was unclear to him how this woman, who seemed so stressed and tired, had become President of the Unit. He didn't doubt she was capable. He didn't doubt her ability to do so. It just surprised him is all.

She moved around slowly, obviously exhausted, and brought the dishes to the kitchen. He set down his paper slowly, grabbed a handful of dishes, and followed her to the kitchen, as the rest of the group continued to write.

"Feels like I'm dreamin'," he said slowly, as walked up next to her and set the dishes on the counter. "Can't believe it's taken us so long to find out about this. Two years. I feel like a damn fool for not thinking to come to Washington sooner. It took Eugene and Abraham to convince us it was for the best, and even then they had no idea that ya'll were here." She began to rinse the dishes, casually and she looked over at him briefly.

"I spend a lot of time worrying about the outside, the people who I know will never get our message. But we're trying to get the word out the best we can. We leave messages in every city and town we visit, trying to get the survivors to come."

"It's good of ya'll. Decent. You're rules, too. Show you have hearts. That's more then I can say for the people still out there."

"You should finish your paperwork and head on to bed. Tomorrow isn't going to be an easy day for any of you. It will take a while to catch your bearings here."

"I just wanted to tell you that we're grateful, for the hospitality and the safety you're offering us." She smiled at him then.

"Don't mention it. I'm just grateful that ya'll don't appear to be psychotic or dangerous." Rick sighed to himself, knowing that they've been plenty dangerous when they needed to be, and plenty crazy, too. Rick picked up a plate and she took it from him gently. "I got the clean up, Rick," she said. "Finish what _you _need to do." He nodded and took a step from the room, looking back at her once to appreciate the view.

**A/N: WHew! This chapter seemed to take me awhile to spit out.. Haha. I wanted to make sure I explained some more about the whole "Unit" and "Government" thing, and also give you maybe a little more insight as to who Stephanie is. The next chapter's going to be a little more fun. Hope you'll check it out. :) **


	5. Own business mindin'

They finished up their questionnaires as she finished up the dinner dishes. She wiped her hand on a towel before walking them to the door and collecting their papers. She hugged the women, shook hands with the men, and wished them a good night, promising to check in on their progress soon.

She got ready for bed and grabbed the stack of papers, bringing them into her room. She flicked on the lamp beside her bed and began to thumb through them.

* * *

**Basic Information:**

_**Name: **_Maggie Greene Rhee

_**D/O/B: **_3/22/1995

_**Marital Status: **_married to Glenn Rhee

_**Children: **_None

**Education and Job History:**

_**Did you attend high school?: **_yes

_**Highest year completed?:**_ 12

_**Did you attend a college, university or trade school?: **_yes

_**Major (if applicable): **_communications

_**Degree (if applicable):**_ unfinished due to Zombie apocalypse

**Please list your last three occupations in order, beginning with the most recent:**

_**- **_Farm hand

_**- **_Waitress

_**- **_Daughter

**Please list five hobbies and/or extra skills you have:**

_**- **_I'm great with a gun.

_**- **_I learn quickly and can develop new skills.

_**-**_ I like to make meals for my family.

_**- **_I understand people.

_**- **_I'm a great get away driver.

_**::Please be advised that the next section of this questionnaire involves the mental stability of the subject. All answers will be kept strictly confidential. Also, let it be known that nothing you have done in order to survive before your arrival at Unit 15 will be held against you, in accordance to S.P Johnsons "Understandable" Law, which took effect Jan. 1, 2020. The "Understandable" Law is discussed in length in your introductory Unit book. Please answer each question honestly so that we may know how to properly view each personal situation. Thank you::**_

_**1. If you had to guess, how many of the infected have you killed in the last 90 days? **_It's hard to guess. At least 50.

**2. How many people have you killed?**

* * *

Stephanie noticed that she left that question blank. She contemplated it, wondering why, but continued to read.

* * *

**3. Please give an explanation for your answer to question number two.**

_**4. How many people have you lost since the beginning of the epidemic? **_A lot.

_**5. Briefly describe your hardest loss, and why it hurt the most. **_My hardest losses were my father, Hershel, who was killed right in front of me, and my sister Beth, who went missing and was never seen again. Then there was Ricks baby Judith, who was basically snatched from my arms by a woman I didn't see coming. But we don't talk about that.

* * *

How sad, Stephanie though. Losing a child, even when it's not yours. She could assume that she watched the child grow. Had loved her. Stephanie sighed, amazed that Maggie was holding up as well as she was.

* * *

_**6. If you could eat one thing every day for the rest of your life, what would it be? **_Soft pretzels. I really miss soft pretzels.

_**7. What is your favorite memory of the last 6 months? **_Hearing that there might be a cure to this sickness.

_**8. What is your least favorite memory of the last 6 months? **_Losing Judith.

_**9. What is your biggest regret in life? **_Losing Judith

_**10. Do you want to be here, a part of the New World, and of Unit 15? **_If it is what Stephanie says it is.

_**11. What are your favorite song lyrics? **_"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are gray."

_**12. What is your favorite personal quote from any person, past or present? **_"The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned." - Maya Angelou

_**13. Do you consider yourself an animal or people person? **_I like my people. And I really do miss my horses.

_**14. How do you feel about children, home care and hospitality? **_Fine?

_**15. Do you enjoy gardening? **_Not really.

_**16. Would you consider yourself the 'protector' or the 'protected'? **_Both.

_**17. Would you rather be in the field or in the Unit? **_Wherever I'm needed.

_**18. Who's your favorite person, currently living? **_Glenn

_**19. Do you believe you're a good person?**_

_**20. Why or why not?**_

* * *

Maggie left the last two questions blank as well. And that was okay. Stephanie got a good feel about who Maggie was as a person. She knew that she would be accepted quickly into the fold at the unit, as she knew the perfect job for her to do while she was there. She started the list:

_Maggie Green Rhee : TROOP 6: Agriculture, Animal Division. Report to TL Kevin McCallister._

And now on to the next:

* * *

**Basic Information:**

_**Name:**_ Daryl Dixon

_**D/O/B: **_old enough

_**Marital Status: **_none

_**Children: **_none

_**Education and Job History:**_

_**Did you attend high school?: **_yUP

_**Highest year completed?: **_10

_**Did you attend a college, university or trade school?:**_

_**Major (if applicable):**_

_**Degree (if applicable):**_

_**Please list your last three occupations in order, beginning with the most recent:**_

_**- **_Hunter/tracker

_**Please list five hobbies and/or extra skills you have:**_

_**- **_Motorcycle riding

_**-**_Walker killin

_**-**_Own business mindin

_**-**_helping Rick and the others

_**-**_Good with an arrow

* * *

Stephanie couldn't help but laugh at the chicken scratch writing on the page, and the way he answered things, too. She didn't get much of an impression of Daryl when they met. He didn't say much at all, but from the way the group treated him, she could tell he was a decent man. She skipped the informative paragraph about the mental stability questionnaire and jumped straight to the questions.

* * *

_**1. If you had to guess, how many of the infected have you killed in the last 90 days? **_Hundreds

_**2. How many people have you killed? **_Plenty

_**3. Please give an explanation for your answer to question number two. **_They were fuckin' crack pots and needed to be put down.

_**4. How many people have you lost since the beginning of the epidemic? **_Enough

_**5. Briefly describe your hardest loss, and why it hurt the most. **_My business.

_**6. If you could eat one thing every day for the rest of your life, what would it be? **_Peaches and deer

_**7. What is your favorite memory of the last 6 months? **_Aint got one.

* * *

Truth be told, she was surprised that Daryl played a long so well. Sure, his answers weren't what you would consider "thoughtful" or "insightful", but he was human. And it showed in the answers he did provide.

* * *

_**8. What is your least favorite memory of the last 6 months? **_ass-kicker

_**9. What is your biggest regret in life? **_Beth and ass-kicker

_**10. Do you want to be here, a part of the New World, and of Unit 15? **_I'll do what the group wants

_**11. What are your favorite song lyrics? **_I miss your broken-china voice. How I wish you were still here with me.

_**12. What is your favorite personal quote from any person, past or present? **_You aint never had a friend like me. -Robin Williams

_**13. Do you consider yourself an animal or people person? **_neither. I'm a me person.

_**14. How do you feel about children, home care and hospitality? **_I don't.

_**15. Do you enjoy gardening? **_Who would?

_**16. Would you consider yourself the 'protector' or the 'protected'? **_What you think?

_**17. Would you rather be in the field or in the Unit? **_Field.

_**18. Who's your favorite person, still living?**_myself

_**19. Do you believe you're a good person?**_

**_20. Why or why not?_**

* * *

Stephanie sighed, thinking over his answers. She observed them, all of them, without letting on that she was. Daryl seemed guarded more then the rest of them. She wasn't surprised that he didn't answer the last questions, or give complete answers to the ones before. A lot of people didn't know how to be open up these days. It was actually very normal. The song quote took her by surprise, too. She didn't take him for much of a Tom Waits fan. Saw him more of a Metallica man, but who was she to judge?

After a moments thought, she knew right where to put him, and added his name to the list.

_Maggie Green Rhee : TROOP 6: Agriculture, Animal Division. Report to TL Kevin McCallister or supervising officer._

_Daryl Dixon: TROOP 3. Second in Defense and Unit Police. Report to Private Gordon Lovitz. 2cd floor._

* * *

**Basic Information:**

_**Name: **_Glenn Rhee

_**D/O/B: **_4/7/1995

_**Marital Status: **_Married to Maggie Greene Rhee

_**Children:**_ None

_**Education and Job History:**_

_**Did you attend high school?: **_yes

_**Highest year completed?: **_12

_**Did you attend a college, university or trade school?: **_yes

_**Major (if applicable):**_ computer design and graphic arts

_**Degree (if applicable): **_unfinished.

_**Please list your last three occupations in order, beginning with the most recent:**_

_**- **_Supply Runner

- Pizza Delivery Boy

- Student

**_Please list five hobbies and/or extra skills you have:_**

_**- **_quick on my feet

_**- **_good with computers

_**-**_ fast learner

_**- **_I was a boy scout as a kid. Earned all my badges.

_**- **_Know how to take charge when the situation calls for it.

_**1. If you had to guess, how many of the infected have you killed in the last 90 days? **_45?

_**2. How many people have you killed? **_Too many

_**3. Please give an explanation for your answer to question number two. **_Sometimes you have to do something you'd rather not to protect the people you love.

_**4. How many people have you lost since the beginning of the epidemic? **_Enough

_**5. Briefly describe your hardest loss, and why it hurt the most. **_My family hurt, and then losing Beth's family hurt. Losing our group hurt. It's all hard.

_**6. If you could eat one thing every day for the rest of your life, what would it be? **_Pizza

_**7. What is your favorite memory of the last 6 months? **_Taking a shower. Finally.

_**8. What is your least favorite memory of the last 6 months? **_Losing Judith was the hardest.

_**9. What is your biggest regret in life? **_There's no point in regrets.

_**10. Do you want to be here, a part of the New World, and of Unit 15? **_I think so.

_**11. What are your favorite song lyrics? **_"Rising up, back on the street. Did my time, took my chances. Went the distance now I'm back on my feet, just a man and his will to survive." - Eye of the tiger. Love that song.

_**12. What is your favorite personal quote from any person, past or present? **_My father in law told me all I had to do was believe. Not necessarily a quote, but it helped me through some hard times.

_**13. Do you consider yourself an animal or people person? **_People

_**14. How do you feel about children, home care and hospitality? **_Love kids and homes and hospitality.

_**15. Do you enjoy gardening? **_Not really.

_**16. Would you consider yourself the 'protector' or the 'protected'? **_Protector, definitely.

_**17. Would you rather be in the field or in the Unit? **_Wherever I can help.

_**18. Who's your favorite person? **_My wife.

_**19. Do you believe you're a good person? **_yes

_**20. Why or why not? **_I just do.

* * *

Stephanie smiled, thinking he was a good person, too. He had kind eyes, and he clearly loved his wife and the family they created within the group. This was the easiest decision she made all day, and she added his name to the list.

_Maggie Green Rhee : TROOP 6: Agriculture, Animal Division. Report to TL Kevin McCallister 1__st__ floor_

_Daryl Dixon: TROOP 3: Second in Defense and Unit Police. Report to Private Gordon Lovitz : 22cd floor_

_Glenn Rhee: TROOP 4: Retrieval and Supplies. Report to TL Vincent Furillo or supervising officer: 3__rd__ floor._

A half an hour later she was through with most of the questionnaires. She knew that she was making the right choices for these people, and it helped to put her mind at ease. She didn't think anyone would object to their given Troops, and she knew all of them would feel better contributing to the Unit. It was also the first time, in a very long time, that she had no doubt that these _new _people would become _permanent_ people.

_Maggie Green Rhee : TROOP 6: Agriculture, Animal Division. Report to TL Kevin McCallister 1__st__ floor, NORTH_

_Daryl Dixon: TROOP 3: Second in Defense and Unit Police. Report to Private Gordon Lovitz : 2cd floor_

_Glenn Rhee: TROOP 4: Retrieval and Supplies. Report to TL Vincent Furillo or supervising officer: 3__rd__ floor_

_Carol Peletier: TROOP 5: Home division, Schooling sector. Report to TL Valerie Smith: 10__th__ floor_

_Abraham Ford: TROOP 1: Defense and Military. Report to General Alexander Pierce. 1__st__ floor , WEST_

_Eugene Porter: TROOP 2: Medicine and Recovery. Report to Doctor Manuela Vasquez, Level B, EAST_

_Michonne: TROOP 4: Retrieval and Supplies. Report to TL Vincent Furillo or supervising officer: 3__rd__ floor_

_Carl Grimes: REPORT TO SCHOOL! 8 AM TO 3 PM, M-FRI._

She had one final paper to read, and she saved it for the last. Rick made an impression on her, and she found herself thinking about him off and on since he left her in the kitchen. He seemed broken, and sad and tired. But he seemed something else, too. Something she just couldn't put her finger on, but she knew it wasn't a bad thing.

* * *

_**Basic Information:**_

_**Name: **_Rick Grimes

_**D/O/B: **_June 24, 1982

_**Marital Status: **_Widowed

_**Children: **_Carl Grimes, age 15. Judith Grimes, age 2. (currently missing)

_**Education and Job History:**_

_**Did you attend high school?: **_Yes

_**Highest year completed?:**_ 12

_**Did you attend a college, university or trade school?: **_yes

_**Major (if applicable): **_Police Administration

_**Degree (if applicable): **_BA in Criminal Justice

_**Please list your last three occupations in order, beginning with the most recent:**_

_**- **_Group leader

_**-**_Farmer

_**-**_Sheriff Deputy

_**Please list five hobbies and/or extra skills you have:**_

_**- **_Good with my hands.

_**- **_Can follow a blue print and a map

_**- **_Quick with any weapon

_**-**_Fast thinker

_**-**_ Honest

_**::Please be advised that the next section of this questionnaire involves the mental stability of the subject. All answers will be kept strictly confidential. Also, let it be known that nothing you have done in order to survive before your arrival at Unit 15 will be held against you, in accordance to S.P Johnsons "Understandable" Law, which took effect Jan. 1, 2020. The "Understandable" Law is discussed in length in your introductory Unit book. Please answer each question honestly so that we may know how to properly view each personal situation. Thank you::**_

_**1. If you had to guess, how many of the infected have you killed in the last 90 days? **_At least 50.

_**2. How many people have you killed? **_10

_**3. Please give an explanation for your answer to question number two. **_I'll do anything I can to protect my family and those closest to me.

_**4. How many people have you lost since the beginning of the epidemic? **_A lot

_**5. Briefly describe your hardest loss, and why it hurt the most. **_My wife, Lori and my daughter Judith.

_**6. If you could eat one thing every day for the rest of your life, what would it be? **_Spaghetti.

_**7. What is your favorite memory of the last 6 months? **_Meeting President Malone, and discovering that the hopes I had for my son can become reality.

_**8. What is your least favorite memory of the last 6 months? **_Losing my daughter.

_**9. What is your biggest regret in life? **_Not being there for Lori when she had Judith.

_**10. Do you want to be here, a part of the New World, and of Unit 15? **_Yes.

_**11. What are your favorite song lyrics? **_"The jig is up, the news is out, they've finally found me. The renegade who had it made, retrieved for a bounty. Never more to go astray. This will be the end today, of the wanted man." - Styx. Makes me think of an old friend.

_**12. What is your favorite personal quote from any person, past or present? **_Honesty is the first chapter in the book of wisdom- Thomas Jefferson

_**13. Do you consider yourself an animal or people person? **_Both

_**14. How do you feel about children, home care and hospitality? **_Those are all good things.

_**15. Do you enjoy gardening? **_Yes

_**16. Would you consider yourself the 'protector' or the 'protected'? **_Protector.

_**17. Would you rather be in the field or in the Unit? **_Either.

_**18. Who's your favorite person? **_My son.

_**19. Do you believe you're a good person? **_I've tried to be.

_**20. Why or why not? **_That's all you can do in this world. Try.

* * *

Stephanie finished up her instructional letter to the new arrivals. Walking from her room, she noticed that all the corridors were already empty, most people already sleeping. Once she reached the West Elevators, she pushed the button to open the doors, and quickly taped the note inside.

_ Dear New Unit Members,_

_We're so pleased to have you here with us. Listed below are your Troop assignments. If you have an issue or objection to your assignment, you can fill out and turn in a job transfer request, provided to you at the information desk on the 1__st__ floor._

_Rick Grimes: TROOP 3: Second in Defense and Unit Police. Report to Private Gordon Lovitz : 2cd floor._

_Glenn Rhee: TROOP 4: Retrieval and Supplies. Report to TL Vincent Furillo or supervising officer: 3__rd__ floor_

_Maggie Green Rhee : TROOP 6: Agriculture, Animal Division. Report to TL Kevin McCallister 1__st__ floor, NORTH_

_Daryl Dixon: TROOP 3: Second in Defense and Unit Police. Report to Private Gordon Lovitz : 2cd floor_

_Carol Peletier: TROOP 5: Home division, Schooling sector. Report to TL Valerie Smith: 10__th__ floor_

_Abraham Ford: TROOP 1: Defense and Military. Report to General Alexander Pierce. 1__st__ floor , WEST_

_Eugene Porter: TROOP 2: Medicine and Recovery. Report to Doctor Manuela Vasquez, Level B, EAST_

_Michonne: TROOP 4: Retrieval and Supplies. Report to TL Vincent Furillo or supervising officer: 3__rd__ floor_

_Carl Grimes: REPORT TO SCHOOL! 8 AM TO 3 PM, M-FRI._

_Report immediately to your Troop Leaders and they will provide you with the next steps in your journey here in Unit 12. Welcome home!_

_Fondly,_

_President S. Malone_

Stephanie peaked at the wall clock on her way back, seeing it was well past midnight. She would be getting up soon to accompany Troop 4 on the retrieval mission and she hadn't even made it to sleep yet. She reached for her door handle and jumped when the red lights started flashing in the halls, and the sirens sounded, indicating a security break and potential situation. She sighed deeply and cursed to herself, knowing her night was far from over.

**A/N: So yes, I am aware that this chapter is pretty much just a bunch of fluff. Gave you a little peak at what happened to baby Judith, but nothing much else. The sirens though...The "potential situation" is the next chapter, will have a totally different feel. Hope you'll stick with me. This story has just begun. **


	6. This is good, right, Dad?

Rick and Carl shared a room. It held two twin beds, a three drawer dresser, a small desk, two lamps, and a small bathroom. They sat studying the books that Stephanie gave them, Rick making notes in the margins with an old pencil, and Carl just skimming it, every now and then looking around the room like he couldn't believe that they were there.

"This is good, right, Dad?," he asked cautiously as Rick scribbled another note.

"Yeah, Carl. This is good." Carl smiled.

"Judith would've loved it here. Mom, too. And the others." Rick sighed deeply. Yes, they would've loved it. Judith had almost made it, until…

Rick had a chance to look around the Unit before they came back to their rooms. He met a few people who seemed nice enough, and he took mental notes of where everything was located. There was a cafeteria, a school, a gym and training center, and a whole lot more. Compared to anywhere they were before, this was paradise. There was a knock through the wall, three taps. Carl smiled and tapped back.

Carl had become very attached to Michonne over the last year or so, and looked up to her as somewhat of a mother figure. Rick and Michonne had gotten closer, too, and he could honestly say he trusted her and her opinion more then any one else in their group. She had become his best friend. It made him happy that her room was right next to theirs. Then again, all of their rooms were close together in the same hallway that led off of a large community living room. Two to a room. Michonne and Carol in the room next to theirs, Eugene and Abraham in the next. Across the hall from Rick and Carl was Maggie and Glenn, next to them Daryl, the only one who roomed alone.

Rick didn't notice the lights in the corner of their room, until they began flashing wildly, followed by a loud siren.

"Dad? What's happening?," Carl shouted, jumping from the bed. Rick instinctively grabbed his gun from the top of the dresser.

"Stay here, Carl," Rick commanded, pointing his finger at him as he slid on his shoes and ran toward the door. The rest of the group met him in the hallway, all equally confused by the situation.

"The hells goin on?," Daryl asked, shrugging on his vest and gripping his cross bow, as they all looked at each other in confusion.

"Not sure," Rick said looking around. Michonne walked around Rick, opening the door to his room and peering in at Carl.

"You stay right here until we figure out what's going on, you hear me?," she commanded in a motherly tone.

"I got it!," Carl said angrily, throwing himself back on the bed in a brief teenage tantrum. She rolled her eyes and locked the door from the handle on the inside, closed it and turned her attention back to the group. They walked down the hall, heading toward a group of people from the other corridor who began gathering in the common area. They all seemed to be staring at something on the wall, and every one held some kind of weapon, making them all glad that they grabbed theirs as well.

"What's happening?," Carol asked a young man who stood holding his gun at his side and staring up at a speaker.

"Just wait," he said. "She'll give us instruction." The rest of Rick's group overheard and followed his lead, staring up at the speaker and waiting for something to happen as the sirens rang in their ears.

* * *

Only Stephanie's and the other troop leaders personal rooms resided on the top floor of the complex. This left a lot of other space. There was a level kitchen, gym, 2 large common areas, and of course, they each had a designated office space. These offices each held a computer, a phone that links them to the bottom level where the watchmen were located, and an intercom system that allowed them to effectively communicate with every member of the Unit.

Stephanie's office was located directly across the first common area, the one that leads off of the elevators she uses. She chose this one specifically, even though it was the smallest, because of the proximity to her room and to other members of the Unit. She reached the door at the same time as Vincent. He had his own office, but mostly used Stephanie's for the same reasons.

Stephanie walked toward the phone and snatched it from its place on the desk. The line connected directly to ground level, so there was no need for her to dial. "President Malone seeking specifics of lockdown," she said quickly.

"Ma'am, there's a pile up against the north wall. One of the watchmen fell asleep and didn't see them coming in time. He's gone, and they're climbing all over out here. Never seen so many of them," the man said quickly, in a panic. "They're getting in."

"Back up is on the way, Soldier. Stand strong."

"Yes, Ma'am," he said before hanging up the phone. Stephanie grabbed the microphone to the intercom system.

"Attention residents of Unit 15. Please remain calm. This is President Stephanie Malone with your lockdown instructions. We need all eligible hands on deck, heading toward the North wall. Please excerpt extreme caution. All others, please calmly report to your room and stay there until the lights are off. We will now turn off the sirens," she said pushing a button on her desk. "I repeat, all eligible men and women to the North Wall for back up. Thank you."

* * *

Rick glanced around, noticing the men and women that gathered were already heading for the stairs. Rick didn't even think , just clutched his gun and headed out behind them. The others followed, not quite sure what they were walking into…Again.

_**AUTHORS NOTE: Hope you guys are liking how this is shaping up and don't think it's too slow? There's going to be a HUGE twist within the next couple chapters that I'm anxiously trying to get to without rushing through the details of Unit 15 and my OC's. I would really, really, really appreciate any reviews you guys can give me. Good or bad. Let's me know whether or not I'm boring you. Thanks for reading guys, I appreciate you.**_


	7. Commence, fire!

CH. 7

Stephanie set down the mic and reached into her desk drawer, producing her weapon of choice, a .45 Glock. Vincent left as soon as she announced where the problem lay. She rushed from the office and toward the stairs, passing several people who were on their way to help. A few months ago, Stephanie thought it was amazing how everyone seemed to stay calm and focused during moments like these. They came less these days, but they still came. Everyone just seemed to understand that this was their lives now, and failure to follow a direct order can result in the loss of a life.

During a lockdown, it is against the law to take the elevators, so there was a long way down to go. Stephanie gazed into some of the lower levels through the glass doors, seeing men kiss their wives at their doors, others calmly close their doors behind themselves. The Unit didn't have much for back up these days. It may technically house up to 600 civilians, but a very low percent of the rooms were occupied. She figured they had 250 people in the Unit, tops.

A lot of the occupants are children under the age of thirteen. They wouldn't allow kids to join in battle training until they're 14 years old, with their surviving guardians permission, in addition to school work. Then there are the elderly, aged 60 and up. There are a few older men who have fought occasionally, but it's not expected nor required of them. Female occupants are also have the choice as to whether or not they want to face the infected. Around half choose to fight. Then there's the ill and incarcerated, which are obviously no help at all. So even out of 250, only 50 or so can fight during these invasions, which weren't as frequent, but happened all the same.

Stephanie ran down the stairs, passing others on her way. She bumped Rick unknowingly, until he reached out and grabbed her arm.

"We ain't sure what we're supposed to be doing here," he said gruffly as he jumped down the stairs beside her.

"Just follow me."

"But what's going on exactly?," Maggie said, her breath short as she struggled to keep up.

"We have a situation with the infected at the North wall. They're breaking through."

"How many?," Glenn asked quickly.

"Not sure. We'll find out soon enough." They were on the ground floor a few seconds later. The chaos around them was evident, the unorganized retaliation against the infected angering Stephanie immediately. The group broke off, killing which ever walker was closest to them. Had to have been at least 50 on the inside, God only knows how many were outside. General Pierce was running around the crowd, trying to get their people to follow protocol, but a panic set in and they all ran ragged.

This was not how she trained her people. "FALL BACK!," she commanded quickly, pulling some people back toward the wall. "FALL THE FUCK BACK!," she screamed louder, her small voice carrying and catching the attention of the Unit members. Rick stared at her, amazed that they followed her so well, even when they were so frightened.

She fired her gun at the walkers who had already claimed a victim and were indulging in their meal, while the others crawled, limped or drug themselves toward them. "ASSEMBLE COMBAT LINE!," she instructed, the people listening to her immediately and calming themselves. Rick and his group took in what the other Unit members were doing, falling in line behind and beside Stephanie, five in a row. Daryl noticed what was happening and looked at his bow, knowing it wouldn't work for what they were doing. He walked to a fallen soldier, saying a quick apology before lifting his gun and ammo.

"COMMENCE FIRE," and older man bellowed.

The front line shot their guns until the bullets drained, and then stepped to the back of the line while they reloaded. The others came up in line and the pattern repeated. Rick noticed Stephanie and two other men created their own front line. They knelt down in front of the others, allowing them to shoot over the top of them, but never moving from their spots. They just reloaded where they were. He assumed the men next to her were the leaders in defense that he read about in the book. Furillo and Pierce.

The infected continued to fall over the wall, some finding their feet and others crawling slowly. But neatly, organized, they got the situation under control. Stephanie saw the same man behind her at least 10 times before General Pierce raised his hand and gestured the group forward, their eyes locked on the fence. Stephanie and Vincent stepped out of line. The first five in the line climbed the stairs to the top of the fence, pointed their guns down and shot at the walkers beyond the gate. Stephanie stepped to the side and surveyed the damage.

**A/N: MORE SUPER SOON! Hope you guys enjoyed the excitement! PLEASE review, recommend and follow if you like it. I'm going to be updating daily and I would love to hear any and all feed back you may have! Thanks for reading guys! **


	8. You got me

UNIT 15- CHAPTER 8

_**Authors Note: Just want to address a few concerns from the reviews. I know the story has very little Michonne/Richonne happening right now. Just have to be patient. Michonne is going to play a very crucial part in this story, as will the whole Richonne relationship. It might seem strange that Michonne is not a part of the Defense troop, but I need her in Retrieval and you will find out why within the next couple chapters. As far as the irrelevant and un-military like questions on the forms.. Well, I did this partially because I just wanted to have a little fun with the characters. Also, this was the mental stability portion of the test, and their answers helped Stephanie identify the fact that they were indeed, normal people. Besides, the world is a completely different place, as would be the military and government. Who are we to say which questions are relevant or not? ;)**_

_**I know that there's a lot of unanswered questions about Terminus and Judith and the rest of the group. You're questions will be answered in time. I've said before that this story is going to be LOOONNNGGGG…AT LEAST 2 parts. Alright then.. So.. Here we go..**_

Rick and his people helped sort through the bodies on the ground. Stephanie noticed them, tired and sweating, and putting forth a great effort of assistance on their first night at the Unit. Her own hands were shaking, and her body was heavy with fatigue, not that she wasn't used to it. She raised her hand in the air, which Vincent noticed. He whistled loudly and every one turned their way, gathering around Stephanie, Vincent Furrilo, and General Pierce.

"I know we're all tired," Stephanie began. "but we still have a retrieval mission in the morning. If you are schedule to accompany us tomorrow, I suggest you head back to your rooms and get some rest." A few of the men and women began to leave. "Everyone else, we're in for a long night. We need to gather the infected and load them into the trucks to be brought to the burning ground. We need to be sure that we don't confuse the infected for any men we might have lost tonight. Those few deserve a proper burial. Also, Michonne and Glenn, I have placed you in troop 4, which has a mission tomorrow if you would like to accompany. I understand it being your first day if you'd like to opt out."

"I'll go," Michonne said quickly, stepping forward. Stephanie turned her eyes toward Glenn, who rubbed his neck in an awkward way.

"I'd rather stay with Maggie the first day. I don't have a problem with going on supply runs, it's what I do, but it being the first day and all…," he said, kind of embarrassed. Maggie grabbed his hand and smiled, happy she had such an amazing husband.

"That's fine," Stephanie said reassuringly, smiling between the two of them. "I understand." Stephanie focused her attention back on the larger group of them.

"I'll need a list compiled of our fallen so that I can personally deliver the news to their families. As quickly as possible, please." Everyone but Ricks group dispersed, continuing to sort through bodies. Stephanie turned toward the General. "General Pierce, please inform the absent troop leaders of what conspired here tonight so that they can inform their troop members. Then get your rest as well. You've done great tonight, General. Thank you."

"You did good, too, kid," he replied squeezing her arm as he stumbled away back toward the building, limping slightly. Stephanie crossed her arms over her chest, the chill creeping in.

"What should we do?," Rick asked stepping forward. It was different for him to not automatically take on the leadership role. Different, but good. He was tired of carrying the burden of everyone's lives on his hands. It ate at him, controlled his whole life. He didn't envy Stephanie for a second, and as strange as it seemed, was perfectly content following her direction.

"If you'd like to help, there's general clean up. We can't leave the ground full of blood and infected bits. We have children inside that have no need to see that. We also have to transport the infected to the burning grounds and get that taken care of." The group nodded. "Take the West elevator up and check on your troop assignments when you're finished." The group sent out, Daryl mumbling about taking orders from a woman, but doing it anyway. They talked quickly to other Unit members, who seemed all too willing to share in the duties. Vincent stood next to Stephanie and eyed her up and down.

"What are you going to do, Steph?," Vince asked her gently. She was still shaking, and it took so much effort on his part not to reach out to hold her.

"I'm going to aid in the clean up and make sure that list gets made so that I can inform those families."

"You can't do all that tonight, Stephanie. Not if you insist of coming on the mission tomorrow. I can do it. Why don't you go get some rest." Her jaw clenched and he saw her squeeze her hands into fists.

"What are you trying to say, Vince?," she asked turning steaming red eyes his way. "You think I can't do this? Well let me tell you something! I've been doing it just fine. You're not my father! You're not my husband! Don't tell me what I can and can't do," she screamed before stalking away toward a pile of the fallen. He followed her, staying close but out of her way, and began to load the diseased onto the truck.

They all worked quickly and quietly. Rick nodded toward Stephanie as he and his group headed back in to the building an hour or so later. Stephanie had been standing over a row of 8 men, the men they had lost that night before she got there.

Only a few people remained, loading the final truck, and it appeared as if Stephanie was waiting for a different truck for their men. Vince shoved his hands in his pockets and walked to her side. He kept his hands to himself at first. It was a hard feat, any time he was around her recently, it seemed. It was made impossible when he noticed the silent tears that streamed down her cheeks. He reached down for her hand and squeezed. She clutched his tightly and held on.

"I had forgotten their names," she whispered sadly. "It took four men to ID them," she said holding the list out. "Maxwell Smith. Age 16," she said standing over the body of a young man. She sniffled as she looked up at him. "He was just a baby, Vince." He didn't know what to say, so he said nothing. Vince pulled her hand so that she turned toward him, and he stepped up to her so that she was flush against his chest. He wondered if she could feel his heart pounding against her, but mostly he just wanted her to not be upset anymore. She didn't resist him, so he wrapped his arms around her completely. She fits there, somehow perfectly, and he can feel her expel a breath of comfort. She stops crying. They don't speak. They just stand there until the truck comes and then they silently load it's passengers.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Rick sat silently in the common area on their level. His hands were behind his head and he lay sprawled out across the couch. Michonne walked into the room and sat beside him, her hip touching his as he lay looking up at her. She rested her arm against the back on the couch, so that she was leaning sideways over him.

"He good?," he asked, his face serious and thoughtful. Michonne smiled at him softly, and he noticed how pretty she looked when she let her face relax, the way she looked when they were together.

"Pissed we didn't let him come down with us," she said lightly. "But you know Carl, always afraid he's going to miss out on something." Rick nodded briefly and closed his eyes. She squinted her eyes as she considered him, knew he was thinking hard on something. They had gotten so close over the last year or so. She knew his facial expressions and body language more then anyone else.

"Spit it out," she said. "I know you're thinking over something in there," she said absently tapping his temple. He opened an eye and looked at her.

"I wish you wouldn'ta agreed to go tomorrow," he said honestly. There was no point in lying to her, she would've known anyway. She rolled her eyes.

"You would've done the same thing. Besides, I didn't know what else to say." Rick chuckled and closed his eyes again.

"Could've said what Glenn said."

"He had a good excuse. He has Maggie." Rick sighed deeply and opened his eyes once more, sitting up. She ducked as he threw his legs over her so that he could sit properly on the couch. He looked at her.

"You got me," he said seriously. "You got me and Carl." He held open an arm to her and she bit her lip before snuggling up next to him. His arm came around her shoulders gently.

They'd done this a few times before, just casually cuddled together for comfort. It wasn't anything sexual, just contented and relaxing and felt…right, somehow. Not that the thought of something more happening between them was ludicrous. They'd both thought about it. Thought a lot more about it then they would admit to each other. They'd even joked about it occasionally. But it never got _there_.

Michonne and Rick sat silently for awhile. He rested his head against hers, casually running his hand up and down her arm.

"Alright. Your turn," he said quietly. She looked up at him, confused. "You're turn to tune me into what's going on in that complex brain of yours." She sighed deeply and rested her head back on his chest.

"Just thinking about Judith," she said quietly. The subject of his daughter was a sore one for Rick. Michonne knew that. But she also knew that he had to talk about it eventually. Maybe tonight would be that night. _Or maybe not_, she thought as he pulled his arm from around her and buried his head in his hands.

"I'm gonna go get some sleep," he said standing up abruptly. Rick looked down at Michonne, who looked at her hands in her lap. Rick felt bad, blowing her off like that. She wanted to talk to him about it, but he just couldn't. Not yet. Not when the pain of it all was still so fresh in his memory.

He knelt in front of her and she looked up at him. "Be safe tomorrow, ya' hear me?," he said resting his forehead against hers. Michonne was surprised. It was a little intimate for them, for their faces to be so close. His nose was almost touching hers and she could feel his breath on her face. She just closed her eyes and took a deep breath, nodding softly. He pulled his head away and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly before kissing the top of her head and walking toward his room.

**AUTHORS NOTE: Okay ya'll… Hope you liked that little peak of Richonne there. I can't WAIT for the next chapter. It's the one I've been so excited about. It's going to begin to answer a lot of questions you may have. Please leave reviews, good or bad, and let me know you're as excited as me for what's going to come. The more reviews and follows I get, the more inspired I become. Hope you like it so far! **


	9. It's a katana

Michonne couldn't sleep. It was strange to think that not even 24 hours ago she was with the rest of the group just entering Washington, and now she was snuggled into a plush, comfortable bed. Even though she wouldn't admit it, she was nervous about the mission in a few hours. She didn't know these people, any of them, and she damn sure didn't trust them. She barely trusted the members of their own group. Except Rick and Carl. If there was any one left that she could trust, it was them. _Her family_, she thought with a small smile.

She recalled a conversation she had with Rick after their meeting with Stephanie. They had been walking through the Unit, and Michonne turned to him quickly. "You're buying into this?," she asked after he remarked on how amazing the crops were.

"Looks pretty legit to me, doll," he said, making her blush, as always, with the pet name he used for her when no one was looking.

"Don't seem to good to be true?," she asked, looking from the collection of vegetables, to the pig pens and the cow kennels. Carl was walking in front of them, petting a small dog who jumped playfully at his feet.

"It sure does." Michonne turned to him. "But I'm tired. Tired of running, of fighting and of being afraid all the time. I'm tired of losing my family. I figure what's the harm in trying here? Trying to belong and fit in with this community of people who seem to be decent enough?" She shrugged and they let the conversation fall when Carl ran up to them, introducing them to a little dog that licked at their hands playfully.

That conversation was one of the reasons she agreed to go on a run right away. If Rick wanted to _try_, she supposed she could to.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx **

Just as Stephanie had predicted, there was no sleep for her that night. Before she knew it, the sun was up and peaking through the blinds, reminding her that she had a big day in front of her. She chugged down the rest of her tea, refusing to be wasteful, and then set the cup on her coffee table. Stephanie stood up, grabbing her overnight bag and headed toward the lobby.

She knew all of the local houses and buildings have already been ransacked and many burned to limit the space that the infected could hide in. She also knew where they were heading, rural Washington, about 2 and a half hours from where they were now. Before dark they would make sure that we were in a secure location to safely make it through the night.

While they did have access to the capital, and to Supreme President Johnson, their monthly supplies dwindled fast. They had to do their part to assure the survival and comfort of their Unit members. This required two monthly supply retrieval missions. The Supreme president had secured only two running factories, and those two factories supply most of their essentials through out the months. Rice and flour for food and purified, bottled water. They also sent out propane for the back up generators. Everything else was considered a luxury, which made these trips essential to their daily lives. She knew Johnson was trying to provide more, but it would take time.

Vince was sitting in the lobby, trying not to look like he was waiting for her, although she already knew he was. He always did. Once her husband Ian was gone, Vince had become very protective of her, and she appreciated him and his thoughtfulness more then she was ever willing to let on.

After everything happened, Stephanie thought of Vince as an annoying older brother that she just couldn't shake. Then, he was just her friend. Now she couldn't imagine a morning without him waiting for her in the lobby.

Without him there with her last night, there was no way she could've handled it. Everyone around her viewed her as this indestructible tower of strength, but ninety nine percent of the time, she's an utter mess. She had no idea what she was doing, if she's using the right terminologies in regards to battle and survival. She just fakes it to the best of her ability and no one has seemed to notice yet. No one but Vince, who knows who she really is. He's the only person left in the world who knew the Stephanie she was before the craziness began. If anything, Vince is the power supply, and she was just plugged into him to get through each day, never fully able to recharge.

Stephanie took a few deep breaths, trying to mentally prepare herself for the next two days. She felt a hand on her shoulder and her eyes popped open, meeting Vincents intense and worried gaze. She didn't know how he had come to stand before her, she must've lost herself in her own head. It just went to prove her theory, that whenever her head started to become a tangled web of confusion and doubt, he was there to snap her back into reality.

"Are you okay, Steph?," he asked gently, concern making his forehead crinkle beneath the rumpled head of thick black hair. She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat, and tried to stop herself from gazing adoringly into his fierce green eyes. They sparkled, you know. And they displayed his emotions so accurately. If she let herself, she knew she would get lost in them, trying to decipher every mood and thought. She dropped his gaze, which turned out to be an even worse idea then staring into his eyes. His mouth was a tempting sight. It had been so long since someone had kissed her, and he had what appeared to be the most perfect mouth for kissing.

She licked her lips and looked away, taking a small step back and physically shaking her body in an attempt to snap out of it. What the hell did she think she was doing anyway? He was Ians best friend. She had to be a horrible person for wondering how his lips would taste , no matter how lonely she was or how amazing Vincent was to her. It just wasn't right.

"Steph?," he questioned again.

"I'm fine," she muttered before swallowing a gigantic lump in her throat. her heart was beating wilding, and at this point she wasn't sure if it was the mission ahead, or the fact that somehow Vince's hand had begun to slowly slide up and down her arm in a concerned and way too intimate manner. Stephanie glanced at his hand and he followed her gaze, at which point he immediately pulled his hand away. He cleared his throat and took his own step back.

"Are you ready to get this trip started, Madame President?," he asked trying to ease the awkward moment. She smiled and played along, pretending as if there wasn't this invisible but completely inappropriate pull between them that made it feel as if a million bolts of electricity weren't pouring through each part of her body that he had decided to touch.

"Indeed I am," she answered sarcastically as they headed toward the elevator, each of them being sure they didn't accidentally touch the other.

Michonne noticed that Vince and Stephanie were the last to arrive and walked together toward the front of the group. She noticed that they had five flat bed trucks to use, and one prison transport vehicle to transport potential patients for treatment. They had 17 people total, 13 men and 4 women. Michonne knew all of their faces from the night before, but none of their names.

" I'd like for you to split into teams of 3." They moved quickly, Michonne walking up to a group of women who beckoned her over to them. They were young, seemed nice enough, and Michonne knew she would feel the most comfortable with them. "These two people who you have chosen will be your riding, searching and sleeping partners for the duration of this trip, which will last anywhere from 2 to 3 days. They're also the people who will have your back if anything goes down." She handed each group a map and a set of keys.

"This is our target destination," she continued. "It's seen on the map as Kentwood, Washington. It's a small town, approximately 2 hours and 30 minutes from here, granted there are no complications along the way. The number on your key and on your truck will match. In the beds of each truck is also one survival bag per person. Troop leader Furillo and I will be leading you in the Infectious Transport Vehicle. The maps are strictly a precaution in case you get separated. We will make no stops along the way, for any reason, unless otherwise dictated by me. Are there any questions?," she asked looking from person to person.

"Alright then," she said when no one replied. "I hope you all hit the little boys and girls rooms before coming down here, because we're in for a ride. Let's head out."

"Hey," said the younger of the two girls as Michonne dropped her overnight bag in the back of the truck. "My names Cindy, and this is my girlfriend Sammie," she said smiling at Michonne widely. She held her hand out and Michonne took it quickly.

"Michonne," she responded.

"I like your sword."

"It's a katana," she answered softly. Cindy shrugged her shoulders.

"Whatever it is, it's real nice." They climbed into the truck, Sammie in the driver seat, Cindy in the middle and Michonne pressed against the door. "So, haven't seen you around here before," she said smiling at her. Sammie was quiet, saying nothing, and Michonne was grateful.

"We just got here."

"Oh, you're going to like it just fine. Everyone's real nice. Sammie and I came upon the place a few months ago. Has been an amazing thing. They take care of you here. It's almost like nothing ever happened sometimes…" Cindy kept rambling on, but Michonne wasn't listening. Two and a half hours driving in the car with this woman was going to drive Michonne absolutely ape shit crazy.

Vince drove for awhile in silence, the five trucks behind them following obediently. They passed hundreds of houses and buildings with a sprayed "15" on the front, meaning it had already been scavenged by them.

Stephanie was visibly nervous, at least to him. She kept herself pushed up against the door, and Vince would occasionally glance at her and catch her biting her lip as she stared out the closed, dirty window. He wondered if the nervousness was due to the mission at hand, or to him.

He could've sworn he'd seen her staring at his lips earlier, right after looking into his eyes as if she wanted to tear his clothes off. They had definitely shared a few moments these last few weeks. Each day they had grown a little closer as friends, it was only natural seeing as we only had each other really. She was the only person who really knew him, and he was the only person who saw the real Stephanie. Sweet, vulnerable and loving Stephanie.

There was no way that she couldn't feel something happening between them the way he did. The confusion about the status of their relationship couldn't be a one sided issue.

Vince wrung my hands on the steering wheel, and glanced at her again, but this time her eyes met his. She blushed slightly, and he smiled, but neither of them said anything. She didn't smile back, just turned back toward the window. A few minutes later, he glanced again.

"Would you stop that, please?," she asked somewhat desperately.

"Stop what?," he asked her, even though he thought he might have had a pretty good idea as to what she was referring to. She glared at him, or rather through him. He didn't think she was allowing herself to actually see _him_.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Vince."

"I'm not allowed to look at you?," he asked her with a small smile. Once again, his smile went unreturned. She frowned and looked down at her hands in her lap.

"Not like that.," she answered softly. The smile fell from his lips and he knew that his first thought was right. She was thinking of him, as more then a friend, and the guilt of it was tearing her up inside. He didn't want that to be the case.

She didn't want him to look at her like Ian used to, but how would that be possible? If he couldn't look at her like he was in love with her, then he would never be able to look at her again.

He said nothing, just continued to drive, and the silence stretched between them like a rubber band. An hour into the trip, Stephanie grabbed the wheel, causing Vince and the trucks following them to slam on the brakes in a chorus of screeching.

"What the hell, Steph?," he snapped at her.

"Look!," she said as she pointed out the window. He peered over her head and into the open field. At first he didn't see it, it was so low to the ground that it was near impossible. But then he caught a glimpse of a dirty blonde head bobbing under the over grown grass. It was a child. But not just any child, an infected infant of no more then two.

As it neared them, he could see the hollow of her cheeks, and the chubby, barely walking legs. She snarled, baring a gummy mouth with only a few perfect teeth. She. It was a she.

Stephanie went to open the door and he reached across her, holding it shut. "What are you doing?," he asked quickly.

"I'm going to get the baby, Vince. Let me go." He looked out the passenger side window, and noticed that every car was looking at them expectantly, none of them seeing what they were.

"She's too young. Manuela said…"

"I don't care."

"There's only three beds," He tried to reason with her, but she wasn't listening.

"We can save her," she pleaded, looking at him, never shed tears rimming her eyes. He took a deep breath.

"I'll go, Stephanie. You wait in the car." She smiled. He opened the drivers side door and headed around the car. The baby had just made his way to the asphalt. He took a closer look at her.

She appeared to have been bitten on her left leg, only once, and she had various cuts and bruises on her skin, probably due to crawling through the wilderness. But Stephanie was right, aside from her young age,s he was an ideal candidate for revival. He opened the back of the truck and grabbed a burlap sack that they used as head covers. The ropes, chains and annexation rods would be unnecessary and impractical for such a capture. He turned toward the girl as she toddled toward me, snapping her jaw hungrily.

Vince bent over her and dropped the bag over her head, then he picked her up by the waist. She wriggled and fought against him, but being such a little one it had no effect. Within a minutes time, Vince had her securely placed in the back of the transport vehicle.

Michonne climbed from the car and walked toward them.

"Everything alright?," she asked quickly. Vince knew she was one of the new ones. He eyed her wearily, wondering what she knew about treating the infected, and whether or not he should tell her. He shrugged his shoulders, figuring she would find out with the others soon enough.

"President Malone spotted an infected toddler in the grass. She wants to bring her back for treatment." Michonne couldn't help but wonder, if maybe…

"Boy or girl?," she asked quickly, walking to the back of the truck and flinging the doors open.

"It's a girl, but why are you…" Michonne jumped into the back, her breath caught in her throat as she recognized the dress, and the little pink shoes that Carl had found her. She walked toward the restraints and lifted the bag from her, before breaking down to her knees and sobbing uncontrollably.

"Judith…" she sobbed, struggling not to reach out to the little girl in front of her, the girl she had thought they lost forever.

_**A/N: Whew…So there it is.. Thoughts are appreciated.. Review, recommend, follow..**_

_**Also, thank you for the reviews from the last chapter. I know my ages are all wrong, and I know some things in this story might not line up completely with TWD storylines.. In my defense, I'm assuming that TWD takes place in the future, just cuz I can't specifically remember a time they mentioned the year. I'm just flowing ya'll. No research done, just enjoying the writing process. I hope you're enjoying the story, too. And I know right now, the OC's seem to be a bit boring, but in the scheme of things, you've only known them a day! Give them a chance to grow on you like they've grown on me through my imagination. ;)**_


	10. Here, time matters

UNIT 15: CHAPTER 10

_**A/N: So, in the reviews I have seen some expressed interest in what the other members of the group are up to. So, this will be a tame chapter, focusing on our original members of TWD during their first day at the UNIT. Michonne will not be in this chapter, as she supposed to be in Kentwood, Washington on a supply run with Troop 4. We will find out what happens with Michonne and Judith in the next chapter. So, I hope you like it. PLEASE PLEASE Review, let me know how you're feeling about UNIT 15, and its occupants. If you have any ideas, let me know and I will definitely consider them. You're views, follows and reviews are what keep me writing this. Thanks guys! :)**_

Glenn stretched out in the bed, pulling his arm from underneath Maggies head. She grumbled in her sleep and turned over, clutching her pillow to her chest. He hated having to wake her. The nightmares were finally starting to subside, and she was just beginning to get the rest she needed.

Glenn sat up and leaned back against the head board, looking around their small room. He wasn't too sure what to think about this Unit thing. Just all kind of seemed unreal to him, too good to be true. But President Malone seemed nice, and once he talked it over with Maggie, he knew that they would give it a chance here. If the shit started to hit the fan, they'd just bail out. They'd survive, because it's what they did.

He looked up at the clock, and noticed that it was 7 a.m. They checked their assignments in the elevator on the way up last night like Stephanie suggested. Today, at 8 a.m, they all started their new jobs.

_Time_, he laughed to himself. Here, time mattered. That had to mean something good, right? They had gone through so many days, not knowing which day was Sunday, or Wednesday. Whether it was July or August. But the Unit never lost track, and on the desk in each room was a calendar. It was September. A Wednesday. And it was 7 a.m.

"Hey," he whispered softly, bringing his hand to trail the length of Maggie's arms. "We told the others we would meet them in the cafeteria for breakfast before work." Maggie grumbled.

"I don't wanna go to work," she sighed as she wrapped her arms around Glenns stomach and buried her head in his side. "I jus' wanna stay here in bed with you. All day." She playfully bit his side. Glenn laughed and slunk down the headboard until he was nose to nose with her.

"I wish we could," he said as he kissed her gently. "But I already feel bad enough for blowing off that supply run," Glenn admitted. "I have to find some way to be useful." Maggie nodded and kissed him again.

"But we can be a few minutes late, right?," she asked grinning up at him with a seductive smile. Her hand ran over him under the sheets and he laughed, reaching back and grabbing her ass to pull her closer to him.

"Oh yeah," he said smiling at her. "We can be a few minutes late."

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Daryl was having that dream again. Although, he supposed it would be considered more of a nightmare. Every time he had the dream it went the same way.

He would see a young, beautiful woman running through the trees, looking back at him and laughing, fallen strands of golden hair from her loose braid floating around her face. So full of courage, and love and trust. She'd reach back for him, and he would hold out his hand, but then the wind would blow and she would be pulled back, the look on her beautiful face, paralyzing fear, made his heart shatter every time. _BETH_, his inner voice would scream to her, but she was being pulled away, further and further until she was no longer in sight. And then that voice, always one more time before he finally woke up. _You're gonna miss me so bad when I'm gone. _

The knock on the door startled Daryl's eyes open. He ran his calloused fingers over his face and tried to calm the hammering in his heart that always accompanied his nightmare. The knock sounded louder.

"Gimme a God damned minute," he screamed roughly as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. He walked toward the door and swung it open, rolling his eyes when he saw Carol smiling at him brightly and holding a cup of steaming tea.

"Should've known," he said grumpily as he left the door open and stumbled over to the dresser and grabbed his new t-shirt and pulled it over his head.

"Oh, Pookie," she said jokingly. "Don't be such a grouch," she said as she sat on the chair. "Tea?," she asked with a smile, holding the cup out to him. He just ignored her, grumbling to himself, as he put on his boots. It had taken Daryl a long time to forgive Carol for what she did back at the prison, and for what she did to Lizzie. But people did some things they weren't proud of now, especially if they thought it meant the survival of those around them. He grabbed his bow off the dresser and slung it over his back.

"You ready or what?," he asked standing in front of her, like he was waiting for her the whole time. She shrugged and stood up, glancing over at the bed with a teasing glint in her eyes.

"We got some time, ya know?" Daryl blushed and turned around, knowing that was exactly what she was trying to do. Carol just laughed and walked toward the door.

"Git along, woman," he said with a small grin as he nudged her out of the door and closed it behind them.

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"Carl," Rick said urgently, banging on the bathroom door. "Carl. Hurry up. We got to meet the others for breakfast." Carl threw open the door and glared up at his father. He couldn't believe that after every thing he had been through that he had to go to _school. _Why couldn't he be placed in a troop like they were? "You gonna pout all day? Face like that might make all the girls run scared." Carl rolled his eyes and slid on his shoes. He shoved his knife at his side and turned toward Rick. Rick smiled at him and held open the door, gesturing him through it, just as Daryl and Carol were closing the door behind them.

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Eugene and Abraham were already in the cafeteria, arguing about something that Rick couldn't pick up on before they got to the table with their trays.

"Something wrong, gentleman?," Rick asked as he sat across from them. They didn't answer, just lowered their head to the table and continued eating. "Anyone see Maggie and Glenn?," Rick asked right as the two of them stumbled into the cafeteria, laughing like a couple of teenagers. Glenn raised his hand in greeting as they walked toward the food line.

"This is something, ain't it?," Carol asked as she scooped up a bite of scrambled eggs. "Feels like I'm back in school or something," she said smiling. Daryl grumbled next to her, shoving the eggs in his mouth as if he would never eat again.

"Speakin' of school," Daryl said pointing his fork at Carl. "You ready boy?" Carl shrugged his shoulders and Daryl chuckled at him. Glenn and Maggie sat down quickly.

"I can't believe we'll get to eat breakfast like this every day," Glenn said smiling as he picked up a piece of toast. The small talk continued until there was a loud bell, indicating it was time to get to work. Carol laughed.

"Really is like school, huh?," she said standing up with her tray. "C'mon Carl. We'll walk up together." Carl sighed and Carol put a hand on his shoulder. Everyone else grabbed their trays and promised to meet in the lobby on their floor when the work day was done.

"Guess we should head up to," Rick said to Daryl. Daryl nodded, still unsure as all hell why they would put him in Troop 3, the policing unit, with Rick. Not that he didn't want to work with Rick, he just thought he'd probably be more useful somewhere else. Never saw himself as much as the law enforcement type.

Rick and Daryl stepped off onto the 2cd floor into a large lobby, much like the ones they encountered on the other levels. There was a large flat screen tv on the wall, and a sign on each hallway. One sign said "Cells" and pointed to the left, the other said "Office" and pointed to the right. They walked toward the office.

Gordon Lovitz stepped from his office as they approached, holding two bags. He smiled at them in greeting and handed them each one.

"My names TL Gordon Lovitz and I'll be your commanding officer here in Troop 3," he said shaking both of their hands. Rick noticed that he was young, probably only mid-20's, and wondered what he had done that made him a TL so quick. "Those bags hold your uniforms, gentlemen. Let's the others know where you belong and to come to you if they need help."

"Ain't wearing no uniform," Daryl said quickly, eyeing the navy blue outfit and gold badge that Gordon was wearing. Rick shot his eyes toward Daryl, in his own way telling him to just shut up. Daryl shrugged, but Gordon laughed.

"You don't have to if you don't want to. But in order to be out there, doing the grunt work, you're going to wear a uniform. I can have you in here pushing papers, too, and then you can wear whatever you want." Daryl grumbled and Rick smiled, knowing already that he liked this kid. "Follow me," he said as he walked down the hallway and opened another door. It was a large conference room, holding two tables for twenty, where all seats but 6 seats were occupied.

"Ladies and Gents," Gordon began while standing in front of them. "This is Rick and Daryl. They're going to be joining us." They got a few nods. "Have a seat boys," he said nodding toward two of the empty chairs. They sat down and looked around. "Roll call," Gordon announced. One by one each member of Troop 3 stood up and introduced themselves. Rick was sure he would remember a few names, but Daryl was barely even listening.

"Nice to meet ya'll," Rick said to them. Daryl grunted.

"Thank you everyone, you may continue on with your daily duties." The chairs pushed back as the people filed out. "So, before you get changed and I give you a tour of our level, let me explain a little bit about what we do here in Troop 3..."

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Carl sat at his desk nervously. His teacher was a young and pretty, and Carl couldn't help but stare at her, even though he wasn't listening to a word she was saying. She had made him introduce himself to the class, which consisted of a variety of age groups. She had just handed out a math worksheet on multiplication and division, and Carl leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, thinking the whole damn thing was a waste of time.

"Hey," he heard someone whisper. "Hey!," they said louder when he didn't look up. He opened his eyes and looked behind him, into the prettiest, greenest eyes he had ever seen.

"Uh, hey?" he responded. The girl smiled at him.

"I'm Casey," she whispered. "If you need some help, you know, catching up with us, I can tutor you after school." Carl wasn't sure what to say, so he just nodded and turned back around. He smiled to himself as he looked at the sheet of paper and pencil in front of him. Maybe school wouldn't be so bad after all.

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"You must be Carol," Valerie said extending her hand. "We met briefly yesterday, if you remember. I'm TL Valerie Malone, and I'll be getting you settled in today. Welcome to Troop 5. Stephanie has informed me that you're to be placed in the schooling division. We need someone for weapons and survival training. Think you'd do okay with that?" Carol thought about her time at the prison teaching the children and nodded. They walked into her office and Valerie handed her a pamphlet about their schooling system, a blank notebook and a pen. "I'll show you to your class room," she said then, walking Carol down the hallway.

"You'll be dealing mostly with the older kids, 13 and up, only if they have written consent from their guardians. I personally believe that all of the children require survival training, but some parents would rather their little ones not be exposed to the harsh realities of the world." Valerie frowned briefly before shrugging it off and smiling at her again. Valerie walked toward a room and pushed the door open, revealing a large, empty space. There were no desks, except for the teachers desk in front of the dry-erase board. Instead, there were mats placed on the ground.

"Who was teaching in here before me?," Carol asked as she walked toward her desk and set the information and supplies she had been given down. Valerie lowered her eyes.

"Max passed away last night after the ambush." Carol frowned.

"I'm so sorry for your loss," she said sincerely. Valerie smiled softly.

"Please, read your material now while you're awaiting the children. You will have three classes, starting at 11. Each class is approximately one and a half hours long. You are expected to give homework daily. All of Max's information about the children are on the desk. All information regarding the students is to stay in this room at all times. Please come find me if you have any questions or concerns." Carol nodded and watched Valerie walk from the room. She turned back once and waved. Carol sat at the desk and let out an overwhelmed sigh. This was definitely going to be interesting.

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"Excuse me, Sir?," Maggie said to a blonde haired man with glasses who sat scribbling something at his desk. " ?" The man sighed dramatically and slammed down his pen, causing Maggie to jump. He looked at her, eyed her up and down, and rolled his eyes disapprovingly.

"You the new one?" Maggie nodded, finding him extremely unpleasant. "President Malone has decided you're to be in with the horses and livestock. You familiar with animals and farming?" Maggie nodded again. "Good," he said throwing her a set of keys and pushing a pack of papers toward her. "There's coveralls in the shed. Return the keys when you're changed. Read the papers. Follow the signs toward the livestock and someone there will place you where you're needed," he said lowering his eyes back to whatever it was he was working on. "And oh," he said grabbing her attention and turning her eyes back toward him. "Have a nice fucking day."

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The day had drug on slowly for most of them. They had gathered in the lobby on their level, talking about the different things they had seen and done within the unit. Eugene had come up from the lab and mentioned working into the night, and left quickly after. Abraham had taken on the nightly watch and was napping to prepare for it. Carol, Maggie, Glenn and Carl waited for Rick and Daryl to return.

"The kids are amazing," Carol said smiling at them, happy she was placed somewhere that she could see bright, vibrant, laughing faces. She had gone into a bit of a depression after terminus. Losing Tyreese and Judith, what she had to do to Lizzie, it was all a lot to take in. This place, though, seemed to be pulling her out of it just fine, as did Daryl and Rick's forgiveness. "You should've seen Carl," she said as she put a hand on his head affectionately. "The girls in there were just all over him. Gonna be a big man on campus." Carl blushed and pulled away, but not before smiling up at Carol.

"Since the others were on the run, I was cataloging and sorting through the stuff they brought back from their last one. You're eyes would've popped out of your head if you would've seen how many rooms they have filled with things we would've given our right arms for out there." Glenn contributed.

"My boss is a complete asshole," Maggie said grumpily. The rest of them laughed. "What's so funny?," she exclaimed with a slight grin.

"Just sounds so normal is all, you complaining about your boss," Carol replied. They heard the elevator ding and turned their heads, watching Daryl and Rick walk into the lobby in matching uniforms. Glenn started laughing immediately, pointing at Daryl. The others chuckled slightly at the sight of Daryl standing in a navy blue colored button up and matching slacks, cuffs hanging from his side and a badge over his chest, but at least they tried to cover it up.

"Don't none of ya saying a fuckin' word," Daryl said pointing his arrow at them. The girls covered their mouths, stifling back their laughter and Glenn just continued to laugh hysterically. "Shut yer pie hole, Rhee," Daryl said walking over to Glenn and punching him hard in the arm. Glenn laughed still, but it lightened up.

"Ow," he exclaimed rubbing his shoulder.

"You kind of asked for it," said Maggie with a grin.

"Everyone have a good day?," Rick asked looking mostly at Carl as he sat beside him on the couch. It was almost supper time, and after a brief description of their days they all went their separate ways to wash up for dinner.

Carl was in the bathroom and Rick was changing his shirt when there was a loud knock at the door. Rick walked over to it.

"Can I help you?," he asked the young Soldier who stood there.

"Rick Grimes?"

"Yes, sir." Carl came from the bathroom and stood beside his father.

"I'm going to need you to come with me." Rick walked over and slid his shoes back on his feet.

"Everythin' okay?," he asked the young man.

"I don't possess specifics, Sir. Just told me to collect you and bring you down to B." Rick nodded.

"Carl, go next door with Carol, and tell her where I'm heading. I'll meet you guys in the caf."

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The soldier stood inside the elevator as it opened on level B. This was nothing like a basement. It was full of chrome and glass with arrows pointing to the labs on one side, the infirmary on the other, and a treatment center straight ahead. It smelled very clean, sterile, and it looked that way, too.

"Ya comin'?," Rick asked the young Soldier.

"No, Sir. I don't have the clearance. Wait here and someone will be with you shortly." The elevator closed behind him and Rick looked around, wondering what the hell was going on.

_**A/N: So, I hope I didn't bore you too much. I know I didn't really talk about Eugene and Abraham. They're just not favorite characters of mine yet. I hoped to capture the essence of the Unit, the fact that it is, indeed, a safe, working community of people. Please leave reviews and let me know where you would like to see this go, or where you're thinking it will go. Good or bad, doesn't matter. Look forward to hearing from you all. Thanks for reading. :)**_


	11. Still Just Judith

**A/N: Thank you guys so much for the kind reviews. I was going to wait til tomorrow to write the next chapter, but I was so inspired by you all that I had to carve out some time to do it tonight. This chapter is, however, going to be pretty short in comparison to the last few. But, I hope you enjoy! **

Michonne sat in the back of the truck, staring at Judiths face. Her shoulders heaved with hurt and her eyes were all out of tears to cry. Vincent had told Stephanie that she mumbled the name Judith before she broke down in tears. Stephanie remembered the child they had lost, and had pulled him away. She told the rest of the troop to step back and give Michonne a minute alone with her. That had been at least an hour before.

Judith snapped her young gums at Michonne hungrily, reaching out for her and making small gurgling sounds. Michonne could tell that she had turned just recently. Her body had yet to begin the decomposition process, and aside from the pale white of her skin, and the opaque blankness in her eyes, she was still just…_Judith_.

Michonne remembered the day she was kidnapped. Maggie and Carol were supposed to be watching her while the rest of them had gone on a run. According to the two of them, a group of survivors had come from the woods and over powered them, taking their entire supply of food, and Judith. They had both been knocked unconscious during the struggle, and were awoken hours later by the rest of the group. They had covered their tracks expertly, which had made it nearly impossible for Daryl or any one else to track them.

Michonne had spent a lot of time with Rick afterward, trying to keep his spirits up and keep him from allowing himself to enter the dark place he did after Lori's death. It wasn't easy. But he had pulled through, even though he still wouldn't talk to anyone about it.

Now, she had to go back to the Unit, and tell Rick that she had found his daughter, and that she was one of _them_. Stephanie knocked on the side of the van before opening the door and stepping inside. It was like a furnace in there, but it didn't bother Michonne, who sat staring at the toddler from the other side of the empty transport vehicle. Stephanie sat next to her slowly.

"I've arranged for your team to ride with others, so that you can take Judith back to the Unit for treatment." Michonne looked over at her slowly. "You can keep her tied up, strap her in the front seat of the truck, and be there within the hour. She can begin treatment immediately."

Stephanie wasn't quite sure how to handle the situation. They had never come upon an infected person who had essentially meant so much to someone she knew. Even if she only just met Michonne and her people, she was their President, and she felt she owed them at the very least her compassion and understanding. If it had been Ian, she had no idea how she would've handled the situation.

"Thank you," Michonne whispered.

"I've heard her mentioned before, but no one has said how you lost her," Stephanie prodded gently as she looked at the struggling baby girl.

"She was kidnapped around three months ago. Just taken."

"I'm so sorry," Stephanie responded gently.

"We searched for her for over a month, and we couldn't find her. We looked," she said as a fresh batch of sobs escaped her throat. Stephanie put her arm around her shoulder and Michonne turned into the embrace. Michonne hadn't cried since the night she found out that Judith had gone missing. She had gotten so attached to that little girl. She used to tell her bed time stories, had taught her nursery rhymes. She watched her grow from an infant to a beautiful, walking, talking little angel. And now, she had to see her as a monster, too, and it just about ripped her insides out.

"Shhh…," Stephanie coaxed softly. "It's going to be okay. Dr. Vasquez is the best living doctor and scientist in the entire world. She's going to handle this. We have the cure remember?," Michonne pulled back.

"Do you really think it will work?," she asked in between sniffles, kind of embarrassed about her emotional breakdown, but not really caring either way. This shit was tough. Anyone with a heart would be effected by it. Stephanie was, which was why they stopped for the toddler in the first place.

"I really, really do. We've had some success infected are coming back to life entirely. We're evaluating them now, but between you and I, there's 3 completely cured individuals that are being released into the Unit on Saturday after the press conference with S.P Johnson. She's going to be fine. Look at her," Stephanie said standing and walking closer to the baby. "She was clearly bit in the leg, but it doesn't appear as if there's any other injuries that would've caused her death. As long as we're just fighting the infection itself, there's no reason that in a months time, Judith won't the same little girl she was three months ago."

Michonne nodded and walked toward Judith, dropping the bag back over her head with a heavy heart. She was going to bring her back to the Unit, immediately, and hopefully, it would all turn out as Stephanie said. Sometimes you just have to have hope.

Michonne pulled up to the Unit almost exactly an hour later. Stephanie had written a note that she was to take directly to Manuela Vasquez on level B in the treatment center. She said that Manuela would take very good care of Judith, and Michonne had no choice but to believe her. It took her at least ten minutes to get through security clearance before she was let into the building. They questioned her about the child she held, and she showed them the letter, which brought about a lot of whispering and stares as she walked through the lobby and toward the elevators.

Luckily for her, Manuela was on her way out as she stepped off the elevator and saw what Michonne was carrying. "Is that a…" Manuela asked, pointing to baby with a bag over its head, moaning and gurgling and reaching for the voices it heard.

"Yes. We found her on our way to get supplies. Stephanie sent me back with her immediately, said you could fix her," she handed Manuela the note and Manuela frowned as she read it.

"You knew her? Is she yours?," she asked sympathetically.

"No. She's my friend's daughter. Rick Grimes. He's upstairs, I think." Manuela picked up the phone on the wall, calling to the soldiers on the outside.

"I need you to fetch me a Rick Grimes, please," she said before hanging up the phone. "Come with me," she said quickly as she almost ran down the hallway toward the treatment center, Michonne close at her heels.

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_**A/N: Okay. So at least you know Rick's not in any trouble and he was brought down to level B because Michonne came back with the baby. But what you don't know is how he's going to react to the news. Gonna be a doozy, people. PLEASE review and recommend/ The more views, follows and reviews I receive, the more I want to sit here with a keyboard under my fingers and make you all happy.**_

_**ALSO: Sorry about the short chapter. But it's time for bed now. More tomorrow..I hope.**_


	12. Living, Breathing, Human People

Rick stood impatiently, waiting for something to happen, for someone to come get him. He had been on level B, standing in the corridor for well over an hour, and his nerves were beginning to get the best of him. He had no idea what they could possibly want with him. They didn't even know him. Rick heard a door open and close, and his confusion was only heightened by the sight of Michonne walking toward him. Her head was down, her shoulders slumped, and he could tell something weighed heavily on her mind.

"Michonne?," he asked hesitantly, grabbing her attention. Her eyes found his, and she closed them immediately, not wanting to break down in front of him. She covered her face and shook her head, not wanting to face the fact that this was actually happening. She was going to have to tell Rick that _in a way_, his daughter was dead.

Rick walked up to her, meeting her halfway down the hall, and eyed her wearily as she shook her head silently. He knew something was wrong. He wrapped his arms around her without question, even though he had a million of them. Michonne was clearly shaken, and the sight of her unnerved him more then anything else. Why wasn't she on the road with the rest of Troop 4? Was she hurt? Was someone else hurt? Had someone died? Were the two of them in trouble for something? He supposed he would figure that all out soon enough, in the mean time, he just had to be there for his best friend.

He walked her toward a small cluster of chairs and sat her down, kneeling in front of her. He set his hands on her shoulders gently, and bowed his head, trying to look at her, needing to see her face even though she was clearly trying to hide it from him.

Rick moved his hand and brought it under her chin, gently raising her tear streaked face to meet his. She kept her eyes closed, not wanting to look into his, not wanting to watch his heart break again, the way hers had. A tear escaped from one of her eyes, and she bit her lip as she fought back the urge to cry.

"I can't help if I don't know what's wrong," he said softly. She shook her head. "Michonne. Look at me." Rick could feel her deep intake and exhale of breath before she opened her eyes and looked into his. "What's going on?"

A door opened and closed down the hall, a pair of high heels clicked down the corridor. Rick stood up just as Manuela was coming down the hallway, holding a chart in one hand. She smiles softly as she sees them, and reaches out toward Rick, shaking his hand.

"I haven't told him," Michonne barely whispers, but they both hear her anyway. Rick tilted his head to look at her quickly, before turning back toward Manuela who is frowning and playing nervously with the bracelet on her arm.

"Mr. Grimes, there's something important we have to discuss." Michonne stood up next to Rick, and took his hand in hers, waiting for the bomb to drop.

Manuela shifted uncomfortably, not knowing how to tell him what was happening. Manuela Vasquez had spent a lot of time around infected people since the beginning of the plague. She studied them, she dissected them, and now she was curing them. She had always seen them as people first, and that's what had driven her to work endless hours to figure out a way to save them. But the resurrection process was not and would never be a perfect science. Now things have gotten better, you were given more of a chance, but there was always the possibility that she couldn't fix them. She had lost hundreds upon hundreds of infected patients over the years, her success rate being laughable until just recently.

Maybe it would be better if he understood first, if he knew there was a chance she could make it, but there was also a chance that she wouldn't. Maybe the science of it could deter him from over reacting to the situation now. Maybe seeing how it would all be taken care of, would make it more like telling him she was just ill, instead of telling him that technically, as of right now, his daughter is dead. "Perhaps you should just follow me," she said softly, mentally preparing herself to give him the grand tour of the treatment center.

Manuela led them down the hallway toward the treatment center, and took a right turn in the middle. On either side of the hallway there were glass windows and doors, but all of the drapes were drawn down so you couldn't see inside. Rick was confused. Michonne gripped his hand tightly, her other arm gripping his wrist. Manuela stopped and turned toward them.

"I suppose I should start by telling you a little bit about the cure we've developed to cure the Ophioyaws plague, without boring you with the specifics. I had come by a variation of a mixture of antibiotics and herbs a little over 6 months ago that had seemed to have some effect on the infected people. We separate the infected into four different treatment rooms, where they are closely supervised and continually monitored. " She knocked twice on the second window, and the curtains were pulled up from the inside. Rick saw a stark white room with 10 beds, all of which 3 were occupied by walkers. An armed soldier stood in each corner. The walkers were strapped to the beds by their wrists and ankles, an IV hanging out of each arm. They struggled and fought with their restraints, snapping and snarling at the soldiers.

"These people are undergoing the first phase of the treatment. They are between week one and week two patients. They are more like the infected I'm sure you're used to seeing. Their wounds have not yet healed, their eyes are still opaque and empty, they're still feeling the urge to eat and claw and nothing else." She knocked on the window again and the blinds dropped. They walked a little ways down the hall, where she repeated her knock and the blinds lifted to another room, much like the one before. Ten beds, this time all filled.

These walkers, however, were slightly different. They were still restrained, but instead of four soldiers, there were two. The infected lay almost lifeless, it appeared, on the beds. Their eyes were closed, their bodies limp. The IV's still attached to their arms.

"These people are undergoing fourth through sixth week treatment procedures. During this time, once they have reached a comatose state, we can go in and surgically repair the superficial damages from being infected. Broken bones and the sort. As you can see, these are no longer the fighting, biting people they were before. The medicine has begun to take effect, and you can see it in the way the color that has slowly come back to their skin, and the way the wounds are beginning to heal. Upon further inspection, you would also find that their eyes are beginning to take on a normal appearance as well." She knocked. The blinds dropped. They move on and repeat.

The fourth room's blinds open and Rick sees 15 beds. But in these beds, he doesn't see any walkers. He just sees sleeping people. In addition to IV's, there's heart and brain monitors on each.

"These people are receiving week eighth through week tenth treatments. The infected get brought to this room once we detect a heart beat and normal brain functioning patterns. They are, however, still unconscious. When and if they wake up, if all the testing comes back positive, they are moved to the next room." She knocked. The blinds dropped. They move on and repeat.

Five more beds. All occupied, with living, breathing, _human_ people. Another doctor is currently in there with them, but there are no soldiers. The doctor is talking to them, and they are watching with eyes Rick noticed could have only been their own. The white filter had been lifted. One of the patients lift her hand up in greeting once she noticed them on the other side of the glass, and Rick responded with a shocked wave of his own.

"These people were all walkers once?" Manuela smiles.

"Indeed they were. Now they're getting better." Rick smiles and looks to Michonne, who is also staring into the room, with a little more hope then before.

"This is amazing, Doc, really. I'm blown away by what you've done here."

"Thank you. But these five men and women are the exception, . A good portion of our patients die during the first few weeks of treatment, another large percent during the next portion. Not every infected being can handle the treatment process. _But there is hope_." Michonne lowered her eyes again.

"I'm glad to know that, ma'am, but I still don't understand what any of this has to do in regards to me." Manuela lowered her eyes.

"Follow me," she said as she led them to the first door. Instead of knocking on the window, she reached into her pocket and produced a small key. She opened the door slowly and stood back, allowing Rick to enter.

Rick looked to Michonne quizzically before turning into the room. She stood back, gripping her hands tight together, as Ricks heart wrenching scream echoed through her ears.

_**A/N: Okay. I thought I was going to do a little something different here, but I started writing and things just went their own way. I guess that happens when you're in the grooooove. Also, thank you SO MUCH for all the reviews. Really makes my day to know you guys are diggin' what I'm putting out there for you. Keep it up. Don't know if you guys have noticed, but I have used some of the reviews and suggestions in the story. You guys are my muse(es).**_

_**And sorry for the chapter delay. Last few days have been crazy hectic. Might not get to update you again til Monday. But keep checkin', and keep reviewing. G'Night !**_


	13. Walls of walkers

There's a moment in every ones life where time stops for them all together. It seemed like for Rick, he had a million moments like these. He could hear his own scream echoing through his ears, and the snarling and screeching of his daughter only intensified the ringing. Rick closed his eyes and backed toward the wall, sliding down onto his bottom when he connected with the concrete. He brought his knees up to his chin, and crossed his arms on them, resting his head in the center.

Losing Judith the first time was the hardest thing he had ever experienced, for those mere moments he had allowed himself to feel the pain of it. He had pushed it down, built up walls of walkers around it and forced himself to not think of it, or of _her_, at all. It was the only way he could go on, the only way he could keep himself moving and breathing and living. He had to, for Carl. For Michonne. For everyone.

Now he was here, and he had found Judith, in a way. But she had become what he had most feared any of them would become. This doctor says she can fight it, that there's a chance, but what would he do if he had to lose her _for real_? If he had to watch her die and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. At least before he could tell himself, in those rare seconds he allowed himself to think of her, that she was still alive out there, somewhere. She was being cared for. Now he had to face the facts, and he wasn't sure how he could handle it.

He picked his head up slowly and looked at her. Her hands and ankles had been tied to the rails of a child sized hospital bed. There was a bite mark on her leg, and some small scratches and bruises. Rick stood up slowly, and brought his eyes to her face. Her hair had just started to grow out, and fell in little golden spirals to her shoulders. Lori's nose. Carl's ears. All still there. He looked into her pale, empty eyes then, and her snapping, mouth.

He reached down slowly, and removed a piece of hair from her face. She bucked up, biting at him hungrily, and he pulled his hand back just in time. He picked up the closest thing to him, which was a metal doctors tray, and threw it across the room angrily, with a loud crash.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Michonne knew that she needed to give him a few minutes, but when she heard the tray slam against the wall, she couldn't help but go in there. Rick turned his head toward her quickly before he began pacing back and forth across the room.

"This is my fault," he screamed furiously. "This is my fault. I never shoulda let her outta my sight. Never shoulda left her with Maggie and Carol. What the fuck was I thinking?!"

"Rick…" Michonne said sadly as she walked up to him, reaching a hand out to his shoulder.

"No!," he exclaimed angrily, pulling away. "No! This is my fault!" Michonne walked up to him again, standing just a foot or so away. "I did this to her," he said to her softer now, sadly. "Michonne. I killed my daughter." With that last statement, Rick broke down into hysteric tears. Michonne reached her arms out to him and he accepted them easily.

"You didn't do this," she said woefully. "It's not your fault. She's going to be okay," she soothed over and over as he gripped her arms tightly. After a few minutes, Michonne could feel Rick begin to calm down, his shoulders relaxed slightly, and his grip on her was lessening. He pulled back, wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his shirt. He nodded to Michonne once and she seemed to understand. The time for crying is over now. They had their moment. Now they had to get back to business.

Rick and Michonne crossed to the door and opened it, seeing Manuela standing there quietly gripping her clipboard. If Michonne didn't know any better, she would say the woman had been crying as well.

"You can fix this?," Rick asked her.

"I will do everything I possibly can. In all honesty, I have never worked with a patient this young before. But aside from the obvious, she appears to be in good, physical health. That definitely helps the situation." Rick nodded, and looked back at Judith.

"We have to try to do everything we can. You have my permission to do anything you possibly can to fix this." Manuela smiled.

"With all due respect, I would've done everything I could to fix this whether you had given me your permission or not, ." Rick nodded again and turned to Michonne.

"We have to tell the others."

_**A/N: SO… It's still Monday.. Wasn't too sure I was going to make it on tonight, but here I am and there is your latest chapter. I know it's short, but I think it leaves you with just the right amount of 'I want more'. Which, I will gladly give you all tomorrow. Follow the story to get alerts on when I post new chapters.. I'm going to try to keep it going daily or at least every other day. And as always, Review! Give me my inspiration! I appreciate you guys. Thanks for reading.**_


	14. Walking Dead Highway to Nowhere

Carl had told Carol what had happened, and she in turn had gathered the rest of their group in the level common area, where they were waiting for Rick to come back. They had been in so many horrible predicaments in the last two years, this could easily be just another fucked up stop along the walking dead highway to nowhere.

"What if they're hurting him?," Carl asked, which gathered sad looks from the rest of the group.

"I'm sure that's not the case," Carol said, trying to sound reassuring, but wondering the same thing herself. Just because this place seemed great at first, doesn't mean that underneath its pretenses it wasn't just as messed up as the rest of the world.

"Been over an hour," Daryl said grumpily. "How long we gonna wait to do something?"

"We gotta just be patient. Anyone hear from Eugene or Abraham tonight?," Carol said.

"As far as we know, Abraham is still on night watch and Eugene is down in the labs," Glenn answered as he ran a hand over his face. The elevator dinged and the group looked over, disappointed to see a different group of people walk from its doors and disappear down the opposite hall.

"I'm going to go find Abraham," Glenn said standing up. "See if he knows anything."

"I'm gonna come with ya," Daryl said standing up, not wanting to hang back and do nothing. The elevator rang again, and the group turned. This time, Michonne and Rick emerged from the elevator. Both of them looked emotionally drained, but physically okay. Carl jumped up and ran to them.

"What's the matter, Dad? Michonne?" Rick placed a hand on Carls head but didn't say anything, just led him back to the couch. The group all returned to their seats, anxiously awaiting what they had to tell them.

"Weren't you on a run, Michonne?," Maggie asked, trying to get the conversation started. Michonne nodded.

"I was. But then I wasn't."

"Alright. Guys. You're really starting to freak me out," Carl said nervously.

"I was down in the treatment center," Rick started. "The good doctor, Manuela Vasquez, she showed me how the cure works."

"I don't understand," Glenn said confused. "She want you to work down there or something?" Rick shook his head.

"No. She showed me how the cure works, so I knew what to expect."

"Oh my God, Rick! Were you bitten?," Carol exclaimed, her eyes scanning over him but not seeing any blood or bites.

"No," he said sadly, shaking his head.

"Michonne?" Maggie asked.

"I'm fine," Michonne said.

"Then why…" They looked back and forth between them. Daryl grunted.

"Would ya'll just spit it out already? What the fuck's going on?," he said impatiently.

"We were driving down the road and the trucks stopped. I went out to see what the hold up was, and then they told me that they had found an infected toddler, a little girl." The eyes on the group widened, the realization of what they were saying hitting home.

"Judith?," Carl asked, trying not to cry. Rick nodded. He could hear the women's muffled cries and briefly noticed the dismay on the men's faces, but he focused his attention mostly on his son.

"But listen, Carl," Rick said trying to explain it to him, and to all of them. "She's got a good chance of coming out of this. I've seen what they're doing down there, and they're changing people. They _have_ changed walkers back into people just like us."

"I want to see her," Carl said softly. Rick shook his head.

"Right now is not a good time. In a couple weeks. We have to let the first phase of the treatment go undisturbed."

"I want to see her," Carl said louder, growing angry.

"Not yet, Carl. But you will." Carl stood up and stomped toward their room, and Rick could hear the door slamming down the hall. Maggie reached over and put her hand on Ricks arm. He looked up at her, trying not to blame her and Carol for all of this, and smiled softly.

"How are you doing?," she asked softly. Rick shrugged, coincidentally shrugging her hand off with it.

"Better after my head cleared," he answered. "Listen. This is hard. This is going to _be hard_. But I saw the progress Dr. Vasquez has made. Judith was bit only once, in the leg, and it was recently. Her body hasn't even had time to begin the decomposition process and now that she's being given the treatment, it won't. There's a huge possibility that in a few months, she will be absolutely fine." Rick took a deep breath, not wanting to talk over this any more tonight, but knowing they'd have questions.

"But she might not?," Daryl asked quietly. This was hard for Daryl, but he refused to let his emotions show. He just wasn't the type. But he loved little ass-kicker, and losing her was probably one of the hardest losses he's had to endure in the last few years.

"She's the youngest patient to date to receive treatment," Michonne continued on. "There's just as much of a chance that she will make it then there is that she won't." Rick looked at Michonne, grateful that she had picked up on his silent request for help.

"I'm going to go talk to Carl," Carol announced softly.

"Thank you," Rick muttered, knowing he wasn't quite ready to hash it out with him.

"I want to see her tomorrow," Daryl proclaimed. "I wanna see ass-kicker, and I wanna see this treatment center. Think ya can make it happen?" Rick nodded. Daryl stood up and stalked off toward his room, knowing through Ricks body language that he was emotionally spent and tired of talking.

"Just don't tell Carl." Rick called after him, and he nodded as he walked away.

"We'd like to see it, too, Rick," Glenn prodded gently.

"I'll see what I can do," he answered. Maggie stood up and slowly pulled Glenn up with her. They nodded once toward Rick and headed toward their own room, leaving Rick and Michonne alone.

"Thank you," Rick said, looking at her. She was beautiful, but he never allowed himself to see it much before. He was always so afraid that something would happen between them that changed the dynamics of their relationship, and then something else would happen that ruined it all. He couldn't lose Michonne in any way. He depended on her too much, relied on her to get through all the bullshit.

Michonne reached over and took his hand inside her own.

"You don't have to thank me for anything. You know how much I love Judith, and Carl, and…" she let her voice trail off, not thinking before she started the statement, and definitely not wanting to finish the thought. "I'd do anything I could to help you all." She nudged his shoulder, and Rick lifted their conjoined hands up and placed his arm around her shoulder, without letting her hand fall from his.

"And I know," he said as he kissed the side of her forehead. "That I can do anything, and get through anything as long as you're here with us." She turned her head up to look at him. He smiled at her softly, staring into her eyes, before his gaze lowered to her soft, plump lips. He bent his head forward slightly and Michonne closed her eyes, waiting for a kiss that never came.

_**A/N: WOW GUYS! 41 reviews! That's almost unheard of around these parts and it's got me greedy for more! Haha.. Please, review! Let me know I'm not boring you guys to death. I got some exciting stuff planned for the next few chapters, but it might be a day or two before I can update again. Hope you're enjoying it as much as I am!**_


	15. Believe me now?

_**A/N: This chapter is going to focus on the group, Day 4 of being in the Unit. I am so grateful that you guys are sticking with the story. I was thinking of going back an updating a few things in the previous chapters, and was wondering if you guys think I should let up on all the OC talk in chapter 1, to try to draw in more viewers? I see that I have a lot of chapter 1 views and then the numbers drop. Do you think maybe I'm losing people with all the extra? I only ask because I really do value the opinions of all of you. Annnnddd…. There was another review I want to talk about, asking if there are any potential hookups within the rest of the group. Sadly, Caryl will not happen. I never really liked that pairing much. But that doesn't mean Daryl will be lonely forever. I have ideas for him and maybe an idea or two about Carl.. Enough of me talking… Here we go…**_

Carl sat in class, spinning his pencil between his fingers, thinking about the argument he had with his Dad the night before. He was being a complete dick. Judith was his sister, and he had the right to see her just like everyone else. He heard them talking the night before. He knew that everyone else was going to get to see her, and see the treatment center. Why was he being such an asshole? You would think that after everything they had been through, and everything he had done and had to do in the last two years, they would all stop thinking of him as a kid.

His foot was tapping rapidly against the floor. The paper in front of him made absolutely no sense to him. Who gave a shit about numbers and fractions and decimals. When would he ever need to know anything remotely close to this crap? There was a tap on his shoulder and he turned around quickly.

"What?," he demanded, clearly on edge. Casey smiled at him.

"Are you okay? You seem a little…angry." Carl shrugged, turning around and leaning back against the chair. If she thought he was going to sit there and spill his guts to her she was dead wrong. Didn't matter how pretty she was. "If you ever want to talk, I'm in Room 435, 15th floor," she whispered in his ear. Carl felt the hair rise on his arms and wondering if spilling his guts would be such a bad thing?

* * *

"Uniform shit's for the birds," Daryl grumbled, pulling at the collar around his neck. "How tha hell ya wear this shit errday and not shoot yerself?," he continued as he waited with Rick and the others as the elevator lowered them to the treatment center.

After he had told the others about Judith, and had his fight with Carl, Rick went to find Abraham and tell him what had happened. Luckily, he had then run into Eugene on his way up to bed, who had already heard and was given permission by Manuela to bring Rick and the others down to the treatment center before they began their jobs for the day.

Euguene was waiting for them by the elevators on Level B, his lab coat unbuttoned, and carrying a clip board like the one Manuela had the day before. Abraham whistled through his teeth, as the others looked around the level common area, impressed as Rick had been with the sterile, expensive, clean look of the place.

"Dr. Vasquez will join us shortly," he exclaimed, "But in the mean time she has instructed me to give you all the tour."

"Geesh, Gene," Maggie said sarcastically. "It's almost like you didn't just get here a few days ago like the rest of us."

"I've already been promoted," he said proudly. "Dr. Vasquez was impressed with my advanced knowledge of diseases and general treatment procedures."

"Course' she was, little buddy," Abraham said, ruffling Eugenes mop of red mullet.

"Cut that out," he said moving his head from under his hand and straightening his back proudly. "Right this way, please." Eugene had given them pretty much the same tour and walk through that Manuela had given Rick and Michonne the night before, minus Judiths room. Then he led them back to the common area.

"But what about Judith?," Carol asked as the rest looked on expectantly. Eugene frowned.

"I didn't think you guys would want to see her…like that." Maggie shook her head.

"Maybe he's right guys. Maybe we should wait to see her, until she's had more time. I'm not sure I'd ever be able to get the image out of my head," she said softly.

"Yeah," Glenn agreed. "I think I'd rather wait a week or two." Rick nodded.

"I understand if ya'll don't want to see her right now, but if you do, you should be able to," he said turning to Eugene as the familiar sound of heels clicking on tile came down the hallway.

"Good morning," Manuela said to them, smiling. She introduced herself to the rest of the group and then turned to Rick. "May we speak a moment?" Rick looked at the rest of the group.

"I'll just tell them anyway," he said with a soft smile. Michonne came up by his side, barely touching his shoulder with hers, just letting him know she was there for him.

"It's good news, actually," she said smiling. "It appears as if we have caught the turn even sooner then expected. The treatment is working exceptionally well. She's already gone into a comatose state, which sounds frightening but as you've all seen, is an amazing thing. We've sutured and disinfected the bite on her leg, as well as the other minor cuts she had acquired. Her eyes have not yet transitioned back, but there's slight brain function, meaning that we haven't lost her."

"Is her heart beating?," Rick asked.

"Not yet," she said smiling sadly. "But under normal circumstances, that could take weeks."

"And under these circumstances?," Michonne asked.

"She's reacting to the treatment quickly, and if it continues to go at this speed, a few days maybe? I'll be checking on her periodically throughout the day. This is great news, guys. The first day of treatment is always the hardest, a large majority of the infected die quickly after the treatment begins. She's already gone past her first important benchmark here. I have high hopes for her complete revival. " Maggie smiled, gripping Glenns hand, relieved that this might turn out alright after all.

"Anyone who would like to see her can follow me, but it will have to be a quick visit. We all have jobs to do," she said to them. Knowing that she was in a comatose state made it easier, and Maggie and Glenn followed the rest of the group to Judiths small room.

* * *

Carl sat off in the corner by himself, eating a tray of home made potato chips and a dry turkey sandwich. A group of kids walk passed him, the big boy in the group kicking his feet, laughing to the others as if Carl wouldn't do anything about it. Carl, in turn, jumps to his feet and shoves the big kid from behind. The kid turns, and Carl looks up at him, unafraid. He had to have been at least a foot taller then Carl, and he had easily 50 lbs on him. But if Carl could take down a 200 lb walker, then he could easily bring down this big bitch.

"You got a problem?," Carl asked as the kid turned to him, looking like he was ready to pounce on him.

"You pushed me you little shit," the kid exclaimed. "What's your problem?"

"Are you seriously going to try to get me to believe you didn't purposely kick my shoes?"

"Are you seriously going to try to get me to believe that you would do anything about it if I did?," he asked, stepping up toward Carl and glaring down at him. He put his hand out and pushed Carls shoulder, causing him to stumble back. He thought back briefly to what Shane had told him a long time ago. Never throw the first punch, but always throw the last one.

Carl grinned at the massive kid eerily, before swinging his tray up and bringing it under his chin. He fell back, stunned, before Carl brought the tray down again, this time on the top of his head. Carl dropped the tray, standing over the boy and smiling.

"Believe me now?," Carl said almost laughing. A group of kids began to circle around them, chanting "Fight! Fight!" The boy grabbed Carl's leg, and brought him down to the ground next to him. Carl jumped to his feet quickly, knowing that this boys survival training had no bearing on actually surviving out there. Maybe if he wasn't so damned fat he would've gotten up a little quicker, Carl thought with a smirk. He brought his foot down on the boys stomach, and raised his foot again, aiming for his head. A pair of big arms gripped Carl from around the middle and pulled him back through the crowd of on-lookers, before shoving him in a chair. Carl looked up and into the angry face of his father, and the amused face of Daryl. _Shit_, he thought grumpily, knowing he was going to get the lecture of a life time.

_**A/N: More on Day 4 in the next chapter. Going to hit some review questions about the rest of the group and we're going to be seeing Stephanie and Vince again, as well. As always, I look forward to hearing from you all.**_


	16. A Boring Day

Daryl grabbed the other boy up and off the ground before shoving him in the chair next to Carl. The crowd began to disperse, a few kids lingering around nonchalantly, trying to eavesdrop on the situation. Rick looked up at them.

"I suppose ya'll are gonna wanna go back to eating your lunch now," he said to them sternly, which caused them all to go about their separate ways. Rick turned his attention back to Carl and the kid he had been fighting with. "You boys wanna tell me what the hell is going on here? Carl?" Neither one of them said a word, just sat with theirs arms crossed glaring at opposite sides of the room. Daryl walked up to the other boy and nudged his foot with his boot.

"What about you, Tubby. Got anything to say?" No response from either.

"You know Daryl," Rick said turning toward him briefly and winking where the boys couldn't see. "Pretty sure I read something in the rule book about a very strict no fighting policy in the Unit."

"Pretty sure yer right, Rick," Daryl said. "What'd the book say we were spose' to do about that?," he said dropping his arms and taking a step toward them.

"Stand up boys," Rick said firmly, turning his attention back to them. "You're under arrest."

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"Don't think I didn't see you coming in late today, Rhee," Kevin McCallister said as he crossed the back lot toward the small horse stable. Maggie was brushing out her new friend, Mixie, and turned toward Kevin only briefly, barely acknowledging him. She didn't care if he was her boss or not. He didn't have to be so nasty all the time.

"I apologize for that, Mr. McCallister."

"T.L. McCallister," he correctly harshly. "Don't think just because your new here that you can wander in when ever you feel like you've gotten enough beauty sleep. 8 A.M to 4 P.M. It's really not that hard to understand." Maggie bit her tongue, and continued to brush the horse. "I need you to collect the eggs and tend to the chicken coop, that horse can wait. When you're done with that, muck the cow pen, milk the cows and feed the pigs." She turned her eyes toward his and pulled her shoulders back.

"Anything else, sir?," she practically growled at him.

"Yeah. Watch you're attitude. Don't forget who's in charge out here." With that, he turned and walked away, back toward his desk. Maggie turned back to the horse and brushed her a few more minutes out of spite.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Michonne was in awe, standing inside an auditorium type room that was set up as a small, neatly organized storage area. There were two older women working slowly, one counting blankets and the other logging them.

"This is just the home troop storage. We have access to all of the storage facilities, on every level except B," Glenn was beginning to explain. "The kitchen storage is mind blowing. They have canned food, fruit and vegetables, meat and an operating freezer to keep everything fresh." Michonne nodded, thinking she might have to see that.

"So what is it we do here? What's our _role _when we're not on a run?," Michonne inquired.

"Yesterday I sorted through the last of what was brought in during the last run. Maude and Claudette are doing inventory today," he said nodding toward them. "Make sure you say hi. They're sweet old ladies." Michonne looked over at them and they smiled, raising their hands in greeting. Michonne smiled back and returned their gesture awkwardly.

"What do we do today?," she asked, anxious to get to work.

"Told me yesterday that President Malone and TL Furillo are due back today. The kid in charge wants us to go around and make sure there's room in every storage area so that we can easily import what they bring back."

Michonne shrugs, thinking it sounded boring as all hell. The thought made her smile. She could totally use a boring day.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Carols first group of kids for the day came in excitedly, and Carol looked around, searching for Carl. The students settled and she began her role call.

"Any one see Carl or Lucas?" Casey raised her hand.

"They got in to a fight in the cafeteria. The new cops arrested them." Carol sighed, worried about him briefly, but figured Rick would handle it accordingly. Then she began her daily lesson, something she was familiar with teaching: knife skills.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The cell door locked behind them. Carl knew that his Dad was just trying to scare him, and the other kid didn't seem too concerned either. Wasn't like Carl wasn't used to sitting in a cell. They both sat on the long bench inside the holding cell, each on opposite ends.

"Enjoy your stay, gentlemen," Rick said, tapping Daryl on the arm and nodding him out the door. It was a single cell holding area, a small room with just the cell and a desk on the outside of it. They heard the door lock behind them, and Lucas turned toward him.

"Why didn't you say anything?," he asked quizzically.

"Why didn't you?," Carl countered. Lucas shrugged. They both sat back, sitting quietly against the brick. After an hour or so, Lucas turned back to Carl.

"How long were you out there?" Carl turned to him, eyeing him warily. "Well?"

"Since the beginning," he answered toughly.

"That how you learned to fight?" Carl didn't say anything.

"You ever kill one of those things?"

"You ever kill a person?"

"Would you just shut up?," Carl said, frustrated with all of his intrusive questions. Lucas laughed, his big belly shaking.

"Shit, kid. I think we're going to get along just fine."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

It was 6 o'clock when Stephanie and Vince saw the top of their Unit. She let out a sigh of relief, glad as always that they had made it home safe. One of the troop members had gotten bit before they left, and they were in a rush to get him home and treated. Stephanie knew she would spend the first hour she'd been home in the treatment center, seeing to Mac's bite and checking on poor baby Judith.

"Thinking about that baby again?," Vince asked reading her thoughts. God, that was annoying. She nodded.

"I still never met the rest of the group. You never brought them by to see me before we left." Stephanie shrugged, the awkwardness between them only intensifying after they had to spend the night together the night before.

"I guess I could gather them for tea later," he suggested, almost to himself. It had been a long, quiet ride.

Stephanie let out a sigh of relief when they reached the gate, grateful that she wouldn't be stuck in that tension filled truck any longer.

A/N: So… This was a slower chapter. I know. But now that Stephanie and Vince are back some things can happen. I have such great ideas for the next couple chapters. A little action, an unexpected visitor and maybe a little romance. ;) I'll also be time jumping a little. If I were to go day by day then this story would just go on forever. More soon.


	17. No Turning Back

They were surrounded on every side, hundreds of them closing in on the group, moaning and reaching and biting toward them. Rick struck out, shoving his knife into the walkers skull that was reaching for Carl. Bob was behind him and had just taken down a walker who had gotten way too close to Rick. Sasha was next to Tyrese, back to back with him. Bob turned just in time to meet his fate, a walker grabbed him by the arm and pulled him down. He was covered in seconds. Sasha tried to save him, and she had gotten pulled in as well.

One by one, Bob, Sasha, Tyrese, Tara and Rosita were taken down. There was nothing any of them could do to save them, but it wasn't for lack of trying. It was one of their darkest days since leaving Georgia. The herd was just too much for them, and they were already weak after escaping Terminus.

They went back to find and bury their dead that next night, after the herd had passed. Everyone but Bobs remains were found and laid to rest.

Rick struggled in his sleep, tossing and turning, the nightmare replaying itself over and over. His eyes snapped open and he looked into the darkness and then instinctively toward the empty bed next to his. He had talked to the other members of Troop 3, and to TL Lovitz, and they all said it was a good idea to let the boys spend the night pent up in the cell. The other kids father had agreed as well. If nothing else, they would learn a lesson.

Three knocks came through the wall, and Rick followed it up with a knock of his own, telling Michonne that he was awake. A minute or so later, the knock sounded outside his door. He stood up and crossed to it, opening it to see Michonnes smiling, beautiful face on the other side. His eyes widened in shock, when he noticed that her hair was gone. Completely. Her beautiful locks, her signature look, was different. But she looked great, softer, and more inviting. She wore a new pair of sweat pants that hung loosely on her hips, and a tank top that was just a little too short and clung to her skin. He took in her body slowly (he seemed to be doing that a lot these days) and if he didn't know any better, he would swear she blushed at his obvious ogling.

"Your hair," he said in greeting, once he found his voice to speak. She laughed and brushed past him, walking into the room. Rick caught a whiff of her in passing, and she smelled like summer and vanilla. He smiled to himself.

"I had things living in there, I think," she said jokingly as she plopped on his bed. Rick came up beside her, sitting down slowly, almost feeling underdressed as he watched her eyes take in his bare chest and arms. "Walls are paper thin. Have a bad dream?," she asked, concern furrowing her brow. Rick leaned back into the small twin bed and rested his hands under his head while Michonne snuggled into the bed as well and turned on her side to look at him, their bodies almost touching, but not.

"It was about the others again. Sasha, Tyrese, Rosita, Tara and Bob." Michonne frowned, remembering the horrible day all to clearly. She had almost made it to Rosita in time, watched as she was bit in the leg and pulled to the ground by 3 walkers. As soon as she knew it was a lost cause, she turned in time to watch Tara meet the same fate. A horrible day, indeed.

Michonne didn't say anything else to Rick about his dream, just sat there being with him.

"Not going to try to force me to talk about it?," he asked, almost smiling at her.

"Don't see the point in it. I was there. I know what happened. Why make you relive it for a second time tonight?"

She was amazing. Everything about Michonne was completely awe inspiring. She knew when to push and when to back off, she knew when to be serious with him and when to joke. She knew him better then any one else in the entire world, it seemed. So why did he keep pulling himself away? She had to feel the same way he did. She had to know how much she meant to him, before something like what happened with the rest of their group happened to her and he ran out of time to tell her…

"I love you," he said softly, looking up into her eyes and gently reaching out to touch the side of her soft face. She gasped at his words, surprised, but rested her cheek into the palm of his hand. She knew he loved her. Just didn't think he would ever say it, didn't think she would either. But here they were.

"I love you, too," she whispered. Rick smiled and moved his hand from her cheek to the back of her neck, and pulled her down gently.

Their first kiss was soft, just a brief meeting of lips, but the electricity that sparked between them was intense. So many times Rick had _almost_ kissed her, _so many times_. If he knew how amazing it would've made him feel, he wouldn't done it a whole lot sooner. She smiled at him, and then brought her lips down to his for another, deeper kiss.

Rick brought his hand down to her waist, his other quickly following, and maneuvered her so that half of her was lying on top of him. Expertly, he rolled them over so that their positions were reversed, him on top of her. Her hands went to his bare back, her nails gently dragging on his skin, causing him to moan softly into her mouth. He could feel her smile against his lips and returned it with a smile of his own, before trailing his kiss to her cheek, and then her neck, relishing in the taste of her skin.

Ricks hand traveled slowly, testing the waters, his finger tips barely grazing her breast and then her stomach, before finding the hem of her shirt and inching his hands up slowly, feeling her ebony skin under his fingers. He pressed himself into the side of her, and she could feel his excitement growing against her, which only added to her own arousal.

Their mouths once again found each other, and the kisses had become more hurried, desperate even, as their tongues danced and their hands roamed, enjoying the feel the other. Michonne pulled him, urging him to position himself completely on top of her, and she spread her legs so that his erection settled in the center of her, pressing against her gently through her sweat pants, and making her release a moan of her own.

If they wouldn't have heard the sirens, they never would've noticed the flashing lights. Rick groaned in frustration before resting his forehead against hers, and then rolling off of her and standing up, reaching down a hand to her. This would just have to wait a bit longer, but at least it was something they could both look forward to. There was no turning back now. But first, they had to see what the problem was and they had to help.

A/N: WHEW! First kiss excitement over here! Hope you guys enjoyed my Richonne chapter. I know it's short, but I want to fit in one more chapter today and its going to take me a while to figure out the best wording for the excitement that's about to follow. So as always, REVIEW! If you haven't noticed, I take all reviews and suggestions into consideration while writing this story. The more I get, the more I want to write and the quicker the updates come. Ok. TBC.


	18. So Bad, So Fast

The groups met once again in the hallway, Daryl eyeing Michonne and Rick suspiciously with a knowing grin on his face.

"Nice hair," he tossed toward Michonne who smiled at him, blushing, as they all walked toward the common area, weapons of choice in tow. "You, too," he said to Rick jokingly, nodding at his unkempt locks from his little rendezvous with Michonne. They stood staring up at the speaker with the rest of the level residents. At least they knew what they were waiting for now.

"Attention Residents of Unit 15. Please remain calm," came Stephanie's voice, even though she didn't sound the least bit calm herself. The sirens stop, but the lights flash on. "Please be sure all children are locked safely in their rooms with guardian supervision. We have an internal outbreak on level 12. We need all able and willing bodies to proceed with caution, but come to aid. I repeat, all able bodies to report, with weapons, to level 12 for immediate assistance. Thank you."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

Stephanie couldn't believe that this was happening again. They had only had one internal outbreak since the beginning of the plague, but it had been when the Unit had first developed and turned out to be intensely destructive. They had made so many changes since then, safety always being the first and most important issue. They had 10 security guards that patrolled the Unit, in 3 to 4 man shifts, 24 hours a day. Every member of the unit was subject to weekly well-being checks by the members of the hospice troop. Someone obviously wasn't doing there job correctly if their fullest level of occupants has been internally overrun. Where the hell was her security and why didn't they notice that someone had died, come back and began to infect other people? This had to have taken hours to get as bad as it was.

Probably began as soon as dusk fell and people started to go to sleep for the night. She never would've known if she didn't stop on level 12 on her way up to her suite. Normally, Stephanie would've gotten there earlier, but because she had so much catch up work to do after she went on the run, and it had been well after one o'clock in the morning when she finally made her way to the level.

She didn't know how it had gotten so bad, so fast. Maybe the disease was evolving. She would definitely have Manuela look into it. But now, she looked through the glass of the level office and visually assessed the walker on the other side. Its stomach had been completely ripped out, probably by who ever had infected it. There would be no saving the poor woman. She took a deep breath as she pushed the door open and stabbed the first walker through the brain with her 12 inch blade.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Don't kill them unless they can't be saved," Stephanie shouted to the few people who had come to help them. Rick heard her as he walked through the doors of the level, and shouted the order back to his people.

For such a seemingly secure and supposedly trained group of people, Rick noticed immediately how inept they were to dealing with this kind of situation. He supposed he noticed slightly during their first ambush at the unit, but eventually they had fallen in line and done what they were told. But no one listened to Stephanie's shouted instruction, and everyone Rick saw seemed to have no idea what they were doing.

The stairwell led to the same common area that the elevators did. There were only 5 or so infected in there, but Rick noticed the chaos down the adjoining halls as well. Doing the best he could to gather his group around him while surveying the situation, he began to jump back into old habits and spit out quick instructions.

"Don't kill them if you think they might be savable. Throw them in the office. The others, the ones who can't be fixed, put them down quickly and as humanely as possible. Be careful," he said walking toward a small group of three walkers, who were clawing at the glass on a conference room door, trying to get to the scared people inside.

These women and children had probably never even seen an infected person up close before. The fear was evident on their innocent faces. They made him think of Carl, who Rick knew would be pissed that he once again missed the action. Rick, however, took comfort in the fact that he was locked up tightly in a cell for the night.

He tackled the one on the end in the center, causing them all to crash to the ground. Rick quickly surveyed the damage on each person. The woman had a hole torn out of her abdomen, her insides leaking on the outside. Rick drew back his knife and ended her quickly, while the male to her left reached for his arm.

His body was in decent shape, only a piece of his leg missing. Rick thought maybe they could save him. So he took his boot and placed it in the center of the biting mans stomach and pushed him across the floor to a vacant wall, turning his attention to the male on his right. His neck was ripped open, and Rick knew it was no use. He took care of him quickly and stood up.

He walked to the savable one quickly as he stood back up and headed his way. He walked around him quickly, ducking under his outstretched arms, and wrapping his arms around his head and pulling its arms up in a choke hold. Walking toward the office door, Rick noticed Michonne with another one heading their way. Michonne had it tied up with a scarf she'd found in one of the nearest rooms. She opened the door, smiled at him, and they threw the two of them inside, and then they closed it securely.

Maggie and Glenn walked up to a group of people who were holding knives out toward 2 walkers, in hopes, they guessed, that they would somehow magically solve their problem that way. The walkers trotted toward them, and they backed themselves right up against a wall. Maggie walked around the creeping walkers and grabbed the group of people, and shoved them into the nearest room.

"Just stay in here," she said to them, frustrated at their lack of effort, and closed the door behind them. Maggie didn't know where these people got their survival training, but my God, she would've sworn they'd never even seen a walker before.

Glenn reached for the nearest curtain and pulled it off the wall. The three walkers who had almost gotten the residents were all easy candidates for treatment. They must've fought off the original walker, or walkers, pretty well. He threw the curtain over their heads, and wrapped it tightly around them. Maggie then walked with Glenn toward the office, where they quickly shoved them inside.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Daryl went room to room, dragging scared people inside them and away from the chaos, and checking for walkers. It was the last room that seemed the show the beginning of the problem. It was straight out of a horror movie, like a million scenes he had seen in person over the last two years. It was a family suite, four beds in one large room. There was blood on the door, which must've been cracked open to let the infected escape. The first bed was a bloody mess, pretty much only a head left and bits and pieces of what was left of the poor person who had occupied it.

He looked in the bathroom and found a bottle of aspirin thrown about the floor, and a turned over meal tray, and just a little bit of blood, probably from where the poor sap hit the floor when he died. Daryl figured an older person must've started it; had a heart attack, died, came back and killed whoever was in the room with him. His victim was probably sleeping at the time. Then someone must've come in the door, gotten his attention, and then he (or she) attacked them as well, and then the cycle continued until it was eventually noticed.

He walked over to the gurgling head, and put it out of its misery. Figured they'd want to know how it happened once it was all over, so he stayed in the room a little longer, trying to figure out the complete picture while it quieted down outside. Maybe he would be a damn good cop after all.

From the looks of these people, only a select few knew how to properly use a weapon, and it didn't surprise him none that some shit like this would happen with a bunch of idiotic, uneducated shit heads.

They'd all been so damn sheltered through the whole ordeal, that none of them knew what it was really like out there. This ambush? This was fucking cake in comparison.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Carol saw the girl shaking under the table in the common room, her knees knocking and her head buried in her arms. She remembered the girl from her class, Clara, and knew she had to try to help her. She quickly walked around Abraham, who was trying to capture a walker awkwardly, and knelt down next to the table.

"C'mon, Clara. We have to get you somewhere safe." Clara shook her head, putting her hands over her ears. "Clara, listen to me sweetheart. We have to go." Clara looked up at Carol, petrified, and nodded quickly before scooting out from under the table. "Let's get you back to your mama," she said as she ushered her around the scene with Abraham.

"My parent's are dead," she said softly. Carol frowned.

"Well lets just get you somewhere safe then."

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

The chaos died down shortly after Rick and his group arrived. They had managed to stick every other person in a safe room, and completely clear the level themselves. Except for Stephanie and Vincent, they stood alone in the common area.

"Thank you all so much," Stephanie said turning toward them, trying to catch her breath. "I don't know how this happened. I thought we were more prepared then this."

"You two were prepared, but your people were not prepared," Rick pointed out harshly. Stephanie lowered her eyes, feeling defeated and tired.

"We've done the best we could under the circumstances," Vincent said defensively.

"Not saying you haven't," Daryl continued. "But ya got these people living in ere' with rose colored glasses and the real world aint so pretty."

"They're right," Stephanie said sullenly. "We'll discuss it all tomorrow, at a special TL meeting before the press conference with SL Johnson. Rick, I would like you and your group to join us. Morning meeting, scheduled at 8 am. You'll be excused from daily duties until after."

"We will be there, ma'am," Rick said, trying to show as much respect as possible.

"In the mean time, let our people clean this up. You've done enough today. Go on up to bed."

"I think we'll be staying," Abraham said looking toward the rest of the group, knowing them well enough to know that not one of them would get any sleep knowing they didn't see it completely through. They all nodded in agreement. Stephanie shrugged and sighed in unison.

"Suit yourselves," she said nodding toward the office.

"First thing we gotta do is get them downstairs. I've sent Eugene down already to inform Manuela that we're going to need more room." Rick walked to the window of the office and peered inside. _Oh yeah, _he thought as he counted 10 infected people in total. _They're definitely going to need more room. _

**A/N: SO… A little action for ya. I think the Unit has seen enough destruction for awhile though now, so this is going to have to hold you over for a bit, as far as BIG action scenes, as we get back down to nitty gritty drama portion of our story.. Heehee. **

**Coming up in the next chapter: A visit from an unexpected visitor. And why does Stephanie want ALL of our beloved TWD characters to come to the meeting? Guess you'll just have to read and see… **

**ALSO… Thanks so much for your kind reviews. I appreciate them all more then you guys know. Let me know how this action packed chapter worked for you, and if you'd like to see more of this, or more of the drama/character relations in the story. Okay ya'll… G'nite.**


	19. In the long run

The early morning sun was just beginning to rise when the group brought themselves back to their rooms to clean up for the meeting. Rick made a quick stop at Carls cell and released him and Lucas, so that they had time to rest a little and change for classes.

"I don't want no more nonsense out of either of you," Rick said as Lucas and Carl eyed his appearance warily. He was covered in blood and while it was a sight that Carl was used to, Lucas looked a little afraid. Lucas nodded and hurriedly headed in the opposite direction.

"Ya, okay," Carl said as they walked from the cell. "What happened to you?," he asked his father as they headed back up toward his room.

"There was a situation late last night on level 12. Took us awhile to clean it up."

"Everyone okay?," he inquired gently, knowing the answer was never good.

"Our people are fine. 10 people were infected, 7 others bit, and 13 died. The bit and infected people are expected to make a full recovery."

"Guess it doesn't matter where we go. Death just follows us," Carl said sadly.

"Death follows everyone, Carl," he said as they walked into the elevator. "Death is a part of life." Carl shrugged and leaned against the rail as the elevator brought them up to their level.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Stephanie was exhausted. She lay in her bathtub, soaking the hot water in through her skin and allowing it to relax her taut muscles. She hadn't gotten to sleep, but she was used to being tired anyway. She closed her eyes as she heard the approaching aircraft. She shot up in the tub, thinking that perhaps she had dozed off and was dreaming, but even after shaking her head clear, she heard it again. It got closer and closer, until she could hear it right on top of her.

Quickly, she wrapped a towel around her body and ran toward her bedroom where she threw on a clean pair of jeans and t-shirt. She brushed out her hair as she heard the engine die and pulled on her boots as quickly as she could and grabbed her gun from the table.

She hadn't seen or heard a helicopter since the beginning. The idea that someone had flown one onto the Unit helipad had her increasingly nervous and more then a little curious.

There was doorway at the end of the hall on the level, leading to the stairs to the roof. She ran up them quickly and threw the door open. And to her utter surprise she watched as S.P Johnson climbed down the helicopter steps and stood in front of her.

**Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Vincent told Stephanie that he would set up the conference room with a few extra chairs for their visitors. She told him her plan last night, and he wasn't sure he agreed with her. These people were virtually strangers. She didn't know them a lick, and she was seriously going to trust them that completely? He thought it was ridiculous, probably one of the most idiotic things she had done in the course of her presidency. But it wasn't up to him to make those decisions. It was Stephanie and Stephanie alone who had to deal with the Unit's politics.

The TL's and Ricks group arrived right on time. Vincent introduced them all to the TL's they had yet to meet, and then they sat awkwardly waiting for Stephanie, who was uncharacteristically late.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

SP Johnson greeted Stephanie warmly with an affectionate embrace. She had never met him in person, but they had spent a lot of time talking to each other via video conferences and she felt like they were old friends.

"I wasn't aware that you were planning on holding the press conference from here," she said smiling softly at him.

"You know how I love surprises, Dear. How's my favorite Unit President?," he asked holding her out by the shoulders and surveying the tired and defeated look on her face. She frowned in response and he gently put his arm around her shoulders. "Well, why don't we go find a nice place to sit and you can tell me all about it?," he said before waving forward the three men who had accompanied him on his flight.

Stephanie took him back to her room, and they settled on the sofa. She had told him about the ambush a few days before, and the internal issue they had just encountered, and about the new group of residents that had been a life saver during both. They talked about her idea regarding the 8 adults in the group, and SP Johnson listened intently and considered her idea, before giving his consent.

"I'm glad you came," she said looking down at the hands she was fiddling with in her lap.

"Me, too. Now," he said, patting her knee in a fatherly manner and standing up. "I believe we're late to a meeting."

**Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Rick looked up at Stephanie and S.P Johnson as they walked into the conference room. Everyone stood in greeting, the shock on their faces evident as Johnson stood at the head of the table.

"Good morning to you all," he said smiling at them. "I know you're all quite surprised to see me here, but I figured the best way to talk about this Unit during tonight's conference, was to finally see it for myself. I've been bragging about Unit 15 for months now, and especially about your beloved leader, Stephanie Malone, and the amazing Dr. Vasquez, who has made such an immense contribution to the rebuilding of the world as we knew it." Manuela beamed from ear to ear. "At this point, however, I'm going to give the floor to President Malone, as she is the one who called this meeting. I'm going to be a quiet observer. Please, have a seat and relax. Pretend I'm not even here.," he said holding his arms out and gesturing toward the chairs.

"Thank you, President Johnson," Stephanie began as everyone sat down. She remained the only one standing as she addressed the group. "As you all know, last night was devastating to our Unit, but thanks to a few well prepared and quick thinkers, we were able to get the situation under control. These people have only just got here, and they show more Unit spirit, intelligence and fight then any of our long term members have shown us recently. Sad to say, this includes our TL's as well." A few of the TL's bowed their head in shame, knowing they too had been too afraid to battle the infected in such an enclosed area. "Not only did they save our asses last night, but they also fought along side us on their first night here, without a second thought. They've done their jobs accordingly to this point and have followed all of our rules. So, I've decided that these people, the ones who were willing to fight to save our occupants, deserve some sort of consolation for being so assistive and remarkable during their few days here."

The TL's turned and glared at Ricks group, some jealously, some angrily and maybe one or two of the women understandably. Rick spoke up first.

"All due respect, ma'am, we are just grateful for the place to stay, the hot water and the food. We don't need anything else."

"I know you believe that," she said smiling at them. "And your complete lack of selfishness only proves my point further." She shuffled some papers on her desk, and handed each of Ricks group their own sheet of paper, outlining what they were discussing. "You will _all_ become STL's, which stands for Secondary Troop Leaders. President Johnson has given me his blessing in this new endeavor and I hope all of you will work with me on this," she said eyeing her TL's, before turning back to Ricks group. "We need your expertise in dealing with the infected in a close proximity, we need your street smarts, your valued opinions and your knowledge in all things survival. We need to be more prepared, less sheltered, and I believe that you're just the group to help us get to where we need to be. In the event of a TL's death, it will be _you_ who will be expected to step up to the plate."

"My paper says nothing about being a STL, it says TL," Eugene spoke up softly, still trying to figure out what was happening.

"Eugene, President Johnson has expressed an interest in taking one of our advanced Troop 2 members back to his Unit to start treatment procedures. I've read Manuelas reports on you, and I believe that you are the one to assist him." Eugene looked at Johnson, who smiled at him reassuringly.

"I'd be honored to assist you, Sir." Johnson nodded.

"We're currently re-evaluating your troop assignments. Please, leave the conference room and wait outside while I talk to our current TL's and decide how we best proceed."

The group stood and walked out of the door, still surprised that this is what was happening.

**Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

"I'm sure gonna miss you, little buddy," Abraham said to Eugene sadly as they all waited to be called back in to the conference room. Eugene nodded and smiled softly. "But I know it's what you were meant to do."

"This is crazy," Maggie said. "They barely know us, and now they want to make us leaders here? Something just doesn't seem right with this."

"They just notice good people when they see them," Glenn added, trying to sound sure of himself, but not so sure.

"And from what we've seen so far, these people haven't given us any reasons not to trust them," Rick continued.

"Ya, we all know how good people gotten at hidin' things though, ain't we?," Daryl countered.

"We'll just see what happens," Carol continued softly. "We can always change our minds and say we aren't interested in taking on that kind of responsibility."

"Or we can soldier on and take whatever responsibilities are thrown at us cause' that's what we do," Michonne said, assuring and encouraging them the best she could. Rick smiled at her and reached over, taking her hand in his and ignoring the sideways glances from every one around them.

**Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

"Are you out of your God damned mind, Stephanie?," TL Kevin McCallister said angrily. "With all due respect, making these strangers assistant _us_ leaders could prove to be a catastrophic idea." They had been discussing Stephanie's decision, half of them on board and the other half thinking it was insane to trust so quickly.

And maybe it was. Maybe it was crazy to believe that they were good people, great people even. She even had the thought that _just maybe_ there was a God, and he had sent these people to them as a gift. What kind of _former_ Christian would she be if she didn't accept the gift openly?

"McCallister," Stephanie said coldly, "It's not your decision. We would've lost many more last night if it weren't for their quick thinking and their expertise. We need them. So instead of discrediting my decision, let's discuss where we are going to put these people, how it's going to work and move on with our day."

"Eugene Porter is going with S.P Johnson tomorrow, Abraham Ford will obviously become STL in Troop One. He's military through and through. And he's done a good job, right? General Pierce?," she asked turning her attention to the elderly gentleman.

"He's done great. Stepped right up, took on extra shifts, and began shouting out orders. The soldiers already respect him. And for the record, I respect your decision in doing this. He will make a damn good TL one day, Ms. Malone."

"Settled then. And thank you, General." She made a note, and looked back up. "Glenn and Michonne. The two of them are in troop 4. Furillo, which one would you rather see as STL for your unit." Vincent shrugged his shoulders, not really wanting _either_ of them to take on the assignment of STL, but knowing one of them would anyway.

"Perhaps we will leave the decision to them…" she mumbled, making another note. And then they continued discussing...

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

SP Johnson sat back and viewed the exchange, observing them as closely as he could. He agreed with Stephanie, trusted her judgment. If she believed this group of people were her saving grace, then so be it. It appeared as if it would help him, too. In the long run. He needed these people to be everything she thought they were, so that Stephanie could be everything he needed her to be.

He took a deep breath, checked his watch, and turned his attention back toward the group, trying to keep his head in the game. Johnson tried, but he couldn't help but wonder when the best time would be to tell Stephanie the real reason for his visit.

**A/N: Okay. So, this chapter was slower. Hope I didn't lose you in there. Carl's out of jail. SP Johnson was our surprise guest, but he's not the only one I have planned, and you guys will be a little more familiar with him/her. We learned that Eugene will be leaving with SP Johnson to help expand the cure to other units. We also learned that Stephanie has decided to give our beloved group more substantial roles within the unit. And.. has a secret… **

**Coming up: We will learn where our people get placed as STL's. We will probably make a trip to level B. And we will definitely get some Richonne action. Keep reading. Keep reviewing! And if you haven't followed, go ahead and do that, too. It's nice getting a general idea of how many people are actually reading it. Let's me know I don't do it just for me. Thanks ya'll! More super soon.**


	20. Taking on a Different Role

Nearly 3 hours of deliberation had passed before the group was called back into the room. They sat nervously, all expressing it in their own ways.

"Thank you all so much for your patience. We have reached decisions regarding your STL status at Unit 15. I hope you will all find them agreeable. Daryl Dixon. STL Troop 3. Unit Police Force. Carol Peletier. STL Troop 5. Home Division and Schooling. Abraham Ford. STL Troop 1. Military and defense. Glenn Rhee. STL Troop 7. Industrial and mechanical. Maggie Rhee: STL Troop 6. Agriculture and Livestock. Michonne. STL Troop 4. Runs, Supplies and Storage. Eugene Porter. For the time being you will be considered STL for Troop 2, so that you can learn all you can from Manuela from now until you leave."

"What about me?," Rick asks once everyone had received their new assigned roles. Stephanie smiles. "You will be taking on a different role."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The presidential address and conference started right on time. The Unit settled in the large auditorium, a camera pointed toward the stage, and people on computers making sure the video got out to the different units. Johnson walked on stage, met with a thunderous applause, and stood behind a podium. He smiled and held out his hands to settle the crowd.

"My friends, I am honored to stand here before you today and offer a ray of hope," Johnson began. "I am speaking to you from Unit 15, Washington. I've come here because their lead doctor, Troop Leader Manuela Vasquez, and her team, have developed a cure for the Ophioyaws plague." The Unit members stand to their feet once again, and erupt in applause, reacting in the same manner that the group once did. "Yes, it's very exciting," he continued as the crowd hushed. "Over the next few months, we will be doing everything we can to get this cure world wide. I urge you all to have patience, as the process will take some time…" Johnson goes on to talk about the treatment, the phases of treatment and how they are going to continue on in the future. "There are other changes I would like to import into the other world units, as well. Today in Unit 15, we have developed a new level of authority. Secondary Troop Leaders should be inducted into every home Unit. These people will be decided by the Unit Presidents. Each Unit President will also chose a Vice President. While we're on the topic, I would like to introduce you to Unit 15's new Vice President. Rick Grimes."

A/N: Super short chapter. My shortest ever! I know. I'm working on the next one now. Just thought this was a nice way to leave you hangin'. I'm halfway done with the first part of this story, and I'm excited as all hell for the final cliffhanger. You guys are gonna FLIP! (But in a good way, I hope) Don't forget to review! You guys know how much I love them.


	21. Healing Wounds

The day was finally over. After they had learned of their new roles, and before the presidential address, they had spent the middle part of their day following around their assigned TL's. Stephanie was very thorough in her explanations and descriptions of what their jobs would be, and Rick took it all in the best he could, all the while wondering if this was really something he wanted to do.

One of the biggest blessings he felt was the fact that he was no longer in a leadership role. He had the chance to reset himself, step back and evaluate the situation without completely feeling as if everything was weighing on his shoulders. Somehow, he just kept getting himself placed on top, without even trying.

Rick was walking down to level B with Michonne, going to check on Judith and her recovery. The levels were quiet, it being well into the evening now. Michonne reached out and grabbed Ricks hand, and he gave hers a squeeze in return.

"Penny for your thoughts," she said softly. He turned to her and smiled softly.

"Just all movin' so fast. Just got here and now they want me to be Vice President? I dunno if I want that responsibility." Michonne smiled and ran her thumb over the back of his hand.

"Of course you do," she said smiling. "I know it all seems a little crazy, Rick, but whether you were given the role or not, you would've stepped up. Because it's what you do. What kind of person you are." He grunted in response, before turning his smile back to her.

"As long as you like the kind of person I am, then I guess I'm doin' something right." Michonne smiled at him as they stepped onto the elevator. When it closed behind them, she turned so that they faced each other. Grabbing his shirt in her hands, she pulled him toward her and kissed him passionately.

"I definitely like the person you are," she said smiling, pulling back and staring into his eyes. The door dinged, signally that they were on their requested level, B. Rick swiped his new access badge and the elevator door opened. He retook her hand and they walked toward Judiths room.

"When are you going to let Carl come see her?" Michonne prodded gently. She thought he could've come tonight, suggested it even, but Rick told them both it was too soon.

"I want the wounds to heal. I want her to look like she's just sleeping and that's it. He's seen enough ugly in this world, I can't let him see his sister as just another one of the dead."

Rick swiped his badge again at Judiths door, and was surprised to find Manuela hovering over her when they went inside.

"What's the news, doc?," Rick asked as he stepped up to Judiths other side.

"You'll be happy to hear..," Manuela said smiling over at him. "Judith has a heart beat."

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Stephanie was finally making it to the top level so that she could rest. They were planning a run in the next couple of days, and in the mean time she had a lot of other stuff to deal with inside the Unit.

Her night was not yet over, because sitting in her living room when she opened her door was S.P Johnson. He smiled at her and gestured for her to take the seat across from him. She did as she was told, and then accepted the steaming cup of coffee he held out to her. She took a sip and moaned out loud, not having had a good cup of coffee in months.

"That's so good," she said smiling at him.

"I thought you might enjoy that. Don't leave home without it." She nodded as she took another drink. "I suppose you're wondering what on Earth I'm doing just hanging out in your private quarters," he said smiling his fatherly smile at her. She nodded and set her cup down. "There was another reason why I decided to come to Unit 15," he said as he followed her actions and set his cup down in front of him. He folded his hands in his lap, and Stephanie thought he sounded a little nervous.

"Stephanie, I'm sick," he said softly. Stephanies eyes widened and she looked him over. He seemed fine, had all day. What could possibly be wrong with him. "Leukemia," he explained as if reading her thoughts. "Now I don't want you to worry yourself," he continued when she began to speak. "I have plenty of time. At least a year. And that's all I need to train my replacement. _You_." Stephanie shook her head.

"Sir, you can't possibly believe that I could be the leader of the free world. Or that the other Unit Presidents would even consider it."

"I want you to come back with me. I want to train _you_ to take my place, make _you_ my Vice President. Stephanie, I know you have it in you. You have the heart and the intelligence and the following. Contrary to what you may believe, the other Unit Presidents adore you, and many have so much as told me so themselves." Stephanie sat back, trying to take in what he was requesting. He wanted her to eventually become Supreme President.

"I know you've suffered a few tragedies as of late, and that it has probably had an effect on the way you view yourself as a President. But rest assured that this Unit has the least number of monthly fatalities, the least number of ambushes and outbreaks. And you have led the crew that discovered the Ophioyaws cure. _I need you._" Stephanie shook her head, trying to wrap the idea around her mind.

"Can I have some time to think about it, Sir?," she asked politely, as she fidgeted with her hands. He nodded.

"I'm leaving tomorrow, but I'll return in one months time , hopefully to bring you back with me. I will also be picking up Eugene then. I want him to have a little more experience working with the cure before I set him up with his own laboratory." She nodded as SP Johnson stood up. Normally, she would've gotten up as well and walked him to the door, but her head was spinning and she was just trying to _not_ freak out. He walked to her and kissed the top of her head, before leaving the room, and leaving Stephanie to her thoughts.

A/N: Another short one, but not quite as short. The last two chapters were technically supposed to be one, but that's just not how it worked out. So? What do you think about Ricks Vice Presidency and about Stephanie being asked to eventually replace SP Johnson as Supreme President?

Coming up: A Carl based chapter, with a little bit of Rick and Stephanie. We're also going to release the cured. I wonder how that will turn out!? Keep reading! And as always-Review!


	22. Hypothetically Speaking

3 days later…

"They're releasing the three cured today," Rick told Carl as he walked him down to level B to finally see Judith. "I just want you to know that she's going to be okay." Carl nodded, feeling more and more anxious the closer they got to her. They reached the door and Rick swiped his access card. He opened the door and went to step inside, but Carl reached out and touched his arm.

"Think I can have a few minutes alone with her?," he asked, stepping in front of his father. Rick nodded and held the door for him, closing it softly behind him once he walked inside.

Carl walked up to the bed slowly, and looked down at his beloved little sister. Her skin was more pale then he had ever seen it, but any cuts and bruises have since healed. Her pale blonde hair had been recently brushed out and lay tucked behind her head, with random little ringlets touching her shoulders. She was breathing deeply, and every now and then Carl noticed her eyelashes flutter, but her eyes never opened. She appeared to be sleeping, even though Carl knew she was in a coma-like state.

They had done everything they could to keep Judy safe. Carl knew that. But there was still a piece of him that thought maybe they could've done more. He was so angry when they had given up following the dead end trail, but he hadn't said a word. He had learned a lot from Daryl, and he knew the trail was nonexistent and that she could've been anywhere. But the idea of giving up on her was so heart wrenching that it killed him when they did.

"I'm so sorry, Judy," Carl whispered as he hung his head over her bed. "We should've kept looking. I should've stepped up and said something. I'm so sorry." Carl didn't realize he was crying until a he saw a tear land on the little hand he was holding. He let her hand go and wiped his eyes, suddenly angry with himself, the situation and the whole world in general. He turned and charged from the room, feeling a need to get as far away from there and from Judith and from Rick, as soon as possible.

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Stephanie sat in her office having just got off of a phone call with Unit 3, Florida. They were having some issues with their solar panels, and Stephanie had to deliver some quick fix solutions from Troop 7. Vincent watched from the door while she finished her call, and walked in when she hung up the receiver.

"Everything okay?," he asked as he slumped in the chair on the opposite side of her desk.

"With Unit 3? Yes. With me? I have no idea." She had been thinking about Johnsons offer for the last three days. She was still completely unsure about what she wanted to do. She couldn't imagine being the Supreme President. It was hard enough just leading a single Unit. How on earth could she manage 60? When Johnson left the day before, promising he would be back in a months time, he had told her once again how much he wanted her to be his successor. But what did she want?

"What's wrong?," Vincent asked, interrupting the same thoughts she had been having over and over again. Stephanie hadn't told him or any one else yet what Johnson had requested of her. But she supposed, now was as good a time as any.

"Johnson's coming back in a month. And he wants me to go with him." Vincent seemed to think this over.

"For how long?," he asked.

"Forever. He's dying. He wants me to become S.P." Vincents eyes widened.

"Are you serious?" Stephanie nodded.

"What do you think?"

"I think it's ridiculous," he said angrily. It wasn't the response she was thinking she would get, and his anger confused her.

"Why is it ridiculous?," she asked, now defensive.

"Just tell him thanks, but no thanks. You're just fine, right here."

"Gee. Thanks for the advice," she said sarcastically.

"How are you ever going to find Ian if you're parading around the world visiting different Units? Does he not matter anymore?" Okay. Now he was just pissing her off.

"Ians dead, Vincent. DEAD! I tried telling myself for the longest time that he wasn't, but he is. Even if I were to find him now, there's nothing I can do to help him. It's been too long. So don't you dare throw him up in my face." Vincent gulped, knowing it was a low blow, but not knowing what else to say. The truth of the matter was, he loved Stephanie more then he had ever loved anything in the entire world. The thought of her leaving forever was almost unbearable. But he couldn't say that. Because he hadn't forgotten about Ian, and he knew she hadn't either.

"Just do what you want, Steph. Leave me out of it," he said angrily, not wanting to admit he was wrong, but not wanting to support the idea of her being anywhere that wasn't with him. He stood up and stalked from the room, slamming the door behind him.

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Carl didn't know why he had come here, but he did. He almost knocked on the door twice, but then turned around to walk away, and then came back again. He took a deep breath and just as he was finally going to knock, the door opened and Casey stood staring at him, an amused smile on her face.

"Sorry. Were you actually going to knock that time?," she said, almost laughing. Carl blushed and she did laugh. "Come on in," she said holding open the door. Carl walked inside, still unsure as to what the hell he was doing.

He looked around, taking in the sight of her pink infused room. It held only one twin sized bed, a small table with two chairs, a dresser, a desk and a small bathroom.

"How'd you get lucky enough to get your own room," he commented before sitting in the chair at the table.

"My parent's died during the Units first ambush." Carl tapped his fingers nervously on the table.

"Sorry," he said, barely looking up at her. She sat across from him and shrugged.

"It's been over a year now. I'm okay." He nodded, and they sat awkwardly for a moment. "So what brings you here?," she asks smiling at him. He shrugged his shoulders in response, not knowing the answer himself. "It's okay. I understand. Sometimes you just need to be with someone," she responded sweetly. "Want to talk about it?" He shook his head no. "Alright then. I'm just going to be over here reading a book then, okay? You know.. If you change your mind." Carl nodded and watched her as she picked up a book of the desk and hopped on the bed.

He watched her for a few minutes, flipping through the pages and humming to herself, feeling more comfortable in that little room with her, then he had been anywhere else in a long time.

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Rick knocked on Stephanie's office door. She waved him in and he stood in front of her.

"Everyone's settled in the cafeteria, ready for the announcement and release of the cured," he said, noticing that something seemed off with her. He had noticed it for the past few days actually. She seemed a little on edge, thoughtful, and never really fully aware of what was happening around her. She nodded and stood up, grabbing a sheet of paper from the table.

"What do you think the chances are that someone knows them?," he asked, still a little unsure about how it would work. They had discussed it all that morning during a TL and STL meeting.

"We will find out soon enough," she said walking behind him toward the door. Rick reached out and gently touched her shoulder.

"Everything okay, Steph? You've seemed a little out of it these last few days." Stephanie frowned and looked at him thoughtfully.

"If someone asked you to give up everything you've grown accustomed to, the people you love and the life you've come to accept, would you do it?," she asked, valuing his opinion.

"Depends on what I was giving it up for," he answered honestly.

"Hypothetically speaking, let's say you gave it up to be…I dunno…The Supreme President." Rick's eyes widened. "Hypothetically speaking, of course," she added quickly.

"Steph, I think you know the answer to that already. I wouldn't be able to say no to helping the people of the world just like I wouldn't be able to say no to helping the people of this Unit. Which is why I _didn't say no_ when you suckered me into being Unit Vice President," he said jokingly.

"How do _you_ feel about becoming Unit President?," she asked cautiously.

"Hypothetically speaking?," he asked with raised eye brows.

"No," she answered clearly.

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"Today is a beautiful day," Doctor Vasquez begins by saying. "We have three currently cured individuals who are going to be joining our Unit today as civilians." The crowd applauds, but Rick notices the concerned looks on some of their faces. "I will be reading their names and assigned troops, and then they will join us. If you know this person from _before_, please stand up so that you may be reunited." The group quieted down and all waited expectantly.

"Shirley Beaumont. Troop 4," Manuela called out as a middle aged white woman walked into the room and stood for all to see. Her eyes were scanning the crowd, looking for a familiar face, and found none. Manuela stepped up to her and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Shirley walked toward a group of three chairs and sat.

"Maxwell Pain. Troop 1," Manuela called out as a young African American male walked toward the center of the room. He searched through the faces of people for one he knew, and the pain in his face when his eyes came up empty spoke volumes. He hung his head and took his seat next to Shirley.

"Finally," Manuela said saddened. "Janet Reese. Troop 7." Janet walked in the room, smiling, looking for her family.

"Janet!," someone near the back screamed. Janet found the voice and began to cry as her sister ran up to her and threw her arms around her neck. Manuela was so happy that she began to cry as well. Eventually, Janet took her space next to Maxwell.

"I am pleased to introduce you to the first three completely cured Ophioyaws victims in the world!," Manuela announced excitedly as the three of them stood before the Unit. Everyone clapped and cheered for them, until poor Shirley collapsed before them.

A/N: So.. Here's what we've discovered this chapter: Stephanie is trying to decide whether or not she wants to become SP. Carl's made a new friend, and Rick might just be the next Unit President for Unit 15! That's exciting! ;)

Coming up: The next chapter is going to be a little Stephanie heavy, but we will have a nice sweet, Richonne moment. Hope you enjoyed the last chapter, and don't forget to review! You know how much I love em'!


	23. Finishing

ONE WEEK LATER

"After extensive physical and mental testing, we're still unsure as to the specifics of Shirley's black out. Manuela believes it was just an emotional reaction to the situation at hand. After 7 days of evaluation, all of her vitals continue to be relatively normal and we're going to let her out of the observation chamber at the end of the day." The TL's and STL's surrounding the table listen intently. "If there's nothing else, I believe that concludes our daily meeting." They all begin to disperse from the room, tired after a long day of working and ready to relax for the night. Vincent stays behind, needing to talk to Stephanie about her decision of whether or not to join Johnson.

Vincent hadn't talked to her about anything other then Unit business since they had the argument a week before. He wanted to try to keep a level head about him, wanted to see things from her perspective, but all he could see was red at the thought of her leaving him.

"Something we forgot to discuss, Vincent?," Stephanie asked as she gathered the last of her stuff and headed toward the door.

"You decide what you were going to do about Johnsons offer?," Vincent asked, rather almost whispered, as he blocked the doorway to the conference room.

"Yes, I have," she said simply, trying not to look at him. She was still emotionally sore from the last time they talked about it. She wasn't ready to discuss it with him again, but from his steady stance inside the door, she knew she didn't really have a choice.

"And?," he prodded.

"And in a few weeks, I will be joining Johnson on the road." Vincent fought back the urge to yell. He didn't want to fight with her. But he couldn't help that it made him angry.

"What the hell are you going to do out there, Stephanie?," he demanded. "You're going to be alone. You're not going to know what the hell you're doing." She tried to push past him, ignoring his comments. She had already made up her mind, and there was nothing he could say that would change it. She had been chosen to do something great for the world. What kind of person would she be if she denied herself that opportunity?

"No," Vincent said, not allowing her to pass. "I won't let you go with him. I can't," he said, surprising even himself.

"Why the hell not, Vincent? What do I have here that's so fucking important that I can't leave?," she screamed at him, once again trying to push past him. He grabbed her arms, probably too rough, and turned her so that she was flush against the wall.

"It's not _what's_ here, it's _who's_ here. You know exactly why you can't leave," he said a little softer, but still coarse and angry. His hands traveled to her shoulders and he pressed his lips to hers roughly. Stephanie fought back at first, but the feel of his lips on hers had her relaxing into his grip.

For so long, Stephanie had thought about this moment, and then hated herself for it immediately after. She had wondered how his mouth would taste, how his hands would feel, and now she knew. Her arms found their way around his neck, and she surprised them both by pulling him closer. Their mouths crashed against each others hungrily, and it felt like hours (which in reality were only seconds) before they pulled away for a breath. She closed her eyes, fighting the tears, and cursed to herself when she felt the wetness on her cheeks anyway. Vincent reached a thumb up to flick the tears away, but she pulled back sharply.

"Don't," she said softly. "I'm still going." Vincent stood back, his head lowered in defeat, and watched as Stephanie walked out of the room, and away from him.

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"There's a spot, right here," Rick said as he kissed Michonnes neck softly, "that makes you squirm, and I love it," he said laughing into her neck and she giggled, trying to prove him wrong but not being able to.

Carl had gone out to see his new friend, Casey. Rick and Michonne took every advantage of these moments they had alone, exploring each other. They still hadn't consummated their relationship, but neither were in a rush. They just enjoyed being together in this way. It was enough for them. For now. Besides, every time they seemed close, they were interrupted.

Rick's kisses traveled up her neck and to her cheek, before finding her mouth and nibbling gently on her plump bottom lip. She sighed in contentment, allowing her hands to travel up his back, underneath his shirt. Her nails scratched down his spine gently, and he ground his hips so that he pressed against her, which elicited a slight moan of appreciation from Michonne.

He nestled himself on top of her, letting his hands roam at will, and kissing her until his head felt dizzy. There was a knock on the door, causing Rick to roll his eyes and Michonne to frown. Rick jumped from the bed, and Michonne pulled herself up to a sitting position and leaned against the headboard.

Rick ran a hand through his hair and opened the door, surprised to see Stephanie standing before him. He opened the door wider and Stephanie stepped inside. She blushed a little when she noticed the rumpled sheets on the bed, and glanced between the two of them guiltily.

"Sorry guys. Hope I wasn't interrupting," she said smiling at them awkwardly. Of course she was interrupting. Someone always was.

"Hey," she said to Michonne as if she was greeting an old friend, which now, she supposed, she was. Stephanie had spent a lot of time with Rick and his group in the last week, eating her meals with them, talking to them. Especially to Rick, who had become somewhat of an older brother type to her. She respected them all, and she valued their opinions and thoughts.

"Hey Steph," Michonne said smiling warmly at her.

"There was just something I needed to talk over with you, Rick. If you got a second." Rick shrugged.

"Sure," he replied, grabbing his gun and placing it in his hip side holster and slipping on his boots. He walked over to Michonne and kissed her softly. Stephanie smiled at the scene, thankful that she had been having dinner with them the night that they had told the group that they were together.

"Be back in a few." Michonne nodded and reached over to the table to grab an old magazine to rifle through as Stephanie and Rick walked from the room.

Rick and Stephanie walked to the empty common area and sat across from each other.

"What's on your mind, Steph?," he asked as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

"I know we haven't talked about it since the night of the presidential address, but I'm going to be leaving Unit 15. Johnson is sick and has asked me to train with him to take his position when he dies." Rick nodded, knowing that the terms 'hypothetically speaking' is almost never really hypothetical.

"We're going to miss you around here, Stephanie, but I admire your decision. You'll make a damn good SP." She frowned and looked at her hands.

"I'm glad you think so."

"Don't you?," Rick asked.

"Vince doesn't."

Rick laughed and leaned back against the couch.

"That man's in love with you. He knows how capable you are, he just doesn't want you to leave." Stephanie shrugged nonchalantly, not letting herself think about it too much. She had enough she had to think about without thinking about how great his mouth felt on hers, or his hands.

"Steph?," Rick inquired, eyeing her dazed expression warily. Stephanie looked at him and tried not to allow the color to creep into her cheeks. _Such a stupid, girly thing to be daydreaming about when you're supposed to be having a serious conversation_, she thought, mentally kicking herself for getting off track.

Stephanie knew she needed to be stronger, and she was trying, but she couldn't help the constant self doubt she felt. Nothing about this new life of hers was easy, and more often then not, she longed for a lazy day in front of the T.V, with the only worry she had being how many of her students had failed the latest test, and when her husband would get home from work.

"Sorry," she mumbled quickly. "This means, Rick," she said getting back on track, "That you will be Unit President. How do you feel about that?," she inquired, knowing it was a lot to ask of anyone. Rick took a deep breath, knowing that this was coming as well.

"I think I'm going to do whatever needs to be done," he replied. He had been thinking about it for a week now, and while the idea of leading over 100 people was definitely daunting, he knew he would accept the responsibility as he always had. He was finally beginning to accept his role, and was already reaching out to other Unit members as VP. He figured that in a few weeks time, the transition from VP to Unit President wouldn't be that difficult.

"We have a few weeks left to make sure you feel comfortable, and I'll always just be a phone call away," she said smiling at him. "Now, as you know, the Unit President will pick their own VP." Rick hadn't thought about that. He'd been too busy thinking about everything else. He knew there were TL's within the Unit that would jump at the chance to step up as VP, and he supposed rightfully they should have a chance. His group had technically just gotten there after all. But he also knew who _he_ wanted to stand beside him, and it wasn't any of them.

"I think I'd rather have the TL's and STL's vote on who they would like to take the position, if that's okay." Stephanie shrugged.

"We're just making it up as we go along, Rick," she said smiling. "However you want to determine that is up to you." Rick nods.

"Are you nervous?," he asked, concerned for his new friend.

"Petrified is more like it," she said honestly, always feeling that she could be that way with him. "You know that feeling you get when you watch a scary movie and you know the killer's hiding behind the wall but the heroine goes forward anyway? That's how I feel every time I think about it."

"Stephanie, you're one of the strongest women I know. You've done a lot here and you should be proud of yourself. Hell, kid, I just met you, and I'm proud of you," he said, smiling reassuringly. "You're allowed to be scared, and you're allowed to be nervous. But you're not aloud to doubt your ability to do the job, because I know+ _you can do it_. " Stephanie smiled.

"Thanks Rick."

"So, when are you going to tell the others?," he said, referring to the TL's and STL's.

"Probably tomorrow, just wanted to let you know first, Mr. President," she said bowing to him teasingly. Rick laughed.

"Never thought I'd hear anyone say those words to me," Rick responded. Stephanie smiled, knowing she couldn't have picked someone better for the job, and stood up.

"I'm gonna let you get back to Michonne now, finish what you were starting in there," she said with a wink. Rick stood in front of her and embraced in a friendly manner.

"Maybe your pal, Vincent, could use a little finishing, too, huh?," he said playfully.

"Oh, shut up," she said, allowing herself to laugh about it a little, not bothered at all by his teasing. She walked toward the elevator, throwing her hand back in goodbye.

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Stephanie made it up to the top level about 30 minutes later. She wasn't surprised to see Vincent waiting for her by her door. She frowned and walked toward him slowly.

"Don't say a word, Steph, just let me get this out, okay?," he said as he nervously paced in front of her. Stephanie stood back and crossed her arms over her chest as he began to ramble on.

"I love you. I am _in love _with you. I have been _in love _with you for a very long time, maybe even before Ian was gone. That makes me a shit person, I know, but it's the truth. You're smart, you're strong, you're beautiful and you're my best friend, and the thought of not seeing you every single day just rips me apart inside. I know you need to go and do this with Johnson. I know you'd make a damn good SP. I also know that no matter what I say or do, you're going to go because you can't turn your back on helping people, which is just something else I love about you. But, I'm not letting you go. _Not alone_. I can't."

He stopped pacing and stood in front of her, reaching down and taking her hand gently.

"Stephanie. Whether you want me to or not, I'm going with you." Stephanie didn't know what to say that would relay the feelings she was having, had been having, about Vincent for so long. So she said nothing as she allowed her guilt about wanting him to slip away. Ian was gone and he would want her to be happy. So, she just squeezed his hand, smiled softly, and pulled him to her, kissing him gently before unlocking her door and pulling him inside, knowing they could both use a little _finishing_.

_**A/N: Okay ya'll. Thoughts? Who would YOU like to see as VP? Voting is officially open! ;) Hope you liked my lil Richonne scene. And do you guys love Stephanie yet or what? I'm getting closer and closer to ending of UNIT 12: Part One. I can't WAIT for the cliffhanger.. It's not easy trying to get everything in here that I need to be in here, all whilst trying to hurry hurry into the next part, because I'm super excited about it.. Lol**_

_**Coming up in the next chapter: Michonne goes on a run and might meet some trouble. Daryl has a rough day at the office, and the group get's amazing news! Keep reading. Review PLEASE! And if you reallllly like the story, recommend it to your pals. Thanks guys. I appreciate you all so much! :D**_


	24. Nominations

"I'm going to miss you something fierce," Rick told Michonne as they cuddled on the couch in the common area. They had both gotten up early so they had this time together. Michonne was scheduled to go on a run with the rest of Troop 4 and they were going to be gone for at least a week. They had to go further and further out these days.

"It's only a week, Rick," she said smiling up at him from the nook of his arm.

"A week too damn long, doll," he said before kissing her forehead.

"C'mon, Mr. President," she said teasingly. "You know how important these runs are to our Unit." _Our Unit_. Still seemed kind of strange to think of this place as home, but they did now. They belonged. And it felt great.

Rick rested his cheek on the top of her head and frowned, thinking over the conversation that they had with the TL's and the STL's the night before. It had gone better then Rick expected, but it hadn't been without it's issues.

_"Supreme President Johnson has informed me that he is ill, and will be needing a replacement. He has chosen me," Stephanie said as she stood in front of them, Rick to one side of her and Vincent on the other. After her brief statement, the other Unit leaders looked to each other nervously, some chatting animatedly about what that would mean, and others angrily glaring at Rick, like he was the one at fault, namely Kevin McCallister. "I know you're all wondering what this means in regards to you. Rick is currently my Vice President, which will automatically make him Unit President once I leave."_

"This is bullshit. I didn't agree with you when you gave him Vice Presidency, and I can't agree with this now," Kevin said, glaring at them.

"The decision was mine alone, McCallister," Stephanie said glaring back. She never liked that pip squeak. If there was one face she wouldn't miss, it would be Kevins.

"This was supposed to be a democracy," Kevin continued angrily. "Or have we all forgotten that? A few days ago you tell us that you have chosen this guy that none of us really know, for a position within this Unit that any one of us had deserved more. Now you're going to make him the God damned Unit President? Who the hell is he? What's he got on you, Steph, because none of this makes sense."

"You just wait one fucking minute," Daryl said, pointing a finger at Kevin and surprising every one in the room. Daryl had never said a word during these nightly meetings, and while the entire Unit knew who Daryl Dixon was, barely any of them could say that he had spoken to them, or even in their presence. He was a mystery to them all, but he was also almost immediately respected by the men, and admired by the women.

"Didn't none of us ask for this shit, okay, poindexter?," he said, clearly pissed. "If ya'll knew what the hell you were doin' in the first place we wouldn't have had to save yer ass twice in the first week we were here, and Stephanie never woulda even thought to ask fer our help. Git your story straight, brotha, or keep yer fuckin' trap shut." Rick laughed to himself at the shocked look on Kevins face. Kevin sat back and angrily crossed his arms across his chest, mumbling to himself.

"Thank you, Daryl," she said smiling gratefully at him, "But in a way… a small, small, way… Kevin is right. This is a democracy," Stephanie continued. "It was actually Rick who reminded me of that. There's going to be a shift in power, obviously, and while I have chosen Rick to lead the Unit, which is not debatable, he has decided that it should be put to a vote who will take on the position of Unit Vice President. Any nominations?," she asked looking around the room.

"General Pierce," TL Valerie Smith said quietly. General Pierce looked to her and smiled.

"I second that nomination," came Abrahams strong and steady voice. He had been working closely with Pierce during his time in Troop 1. He had come to respect him as a soldier and admire him as an individual. Sure, he was an elder, but he was smart and well trained and strong as hell.

"Daryl Dixon," Came Glenn's sure and steady voice. "I know that you guys don't know him well yet, or any of us, really. I understand your hesitation. But if there's one thing I can say about Daryl is that he would die to protect any of you, even you McCallister, because that's just the kind of person he is."

"I second that nomination," Said General Lovitz. Daryl looked to the man, shocked that he wouldn't want the position to himself. The truth of the matter was, Lovitz had just fallen in love, and he knew a position such as Vice President wasn't something he was interested in taking on at the time. Besides, Daryl might be quiet, but Lovitz also noticed in all the time they spent together during the work day, that he was sharp as a whip. He'd trust his life in Daryls hands any day.

"Alright then. We'll have an anonymous vote and it will be decided," Stephanie said, when no one else threw out any more nominations. Rick looked around. He had no idea how the vote would go. There were 16 of them in total, so there could be a tie. 8 of them were Ricks people, 8 of them original Unit members.

"In front of you is a pencil and slip of paper. Write your vote and then set it in the box in the middle of the table." It took a few seconds for everyone to write their decision, and then it was time for Stephanie to read the results.

" Daryl, Pierce, Pierce, Daryl, Daryl, Daryl, Pierce, Pierce, Pierce, Pierce, Daryl, Daryl, Pierce, Pierce, Daryl, Pierce. Congratulations General Alexander Pierce, for your promotion to Unit Vice President, effective…well… When I leave," she said smiling at the old man, whom she had grown to adore. She would definitely miss him. Rick nodded and shook the mans hand.

"Looking forward to working with you, Sir," Rick said smiling at him.

"You, too, Mr. President" Pierce said, beaming at him, showing him that he respected Stephanie decision by calling him his new formal title.

"Also, Congratulations to Abraham Ford, who will become TL for Troop 1. Begin to think on who you would like to have as your STL. There is also going to be an opening for STL or TL is Troops 4 and 2, as Eugene and Vincent will be coming with S.P Johnson and myself. STL, Troop 2, will be determined by Manuela, based on whom in her Unit will best be fit for the position. Congratulations are also in order for Michonne, who will become TL in Troop 4. Begin to think about who you would like to be your STL."

"I'm going to miss you, too, Rick," Michonne said as she snuggled into him. She knew she had to go soon, but damned if she didn't get used to touching him every day. She thought for sure she might have withdrawals when she was gone. "But this will be the only chance I have to go on a run with Vincent before he leaves, and he's supposed to show me exactly how I'm expected to execute. I don't have much time to train."

"You're going to be great, doll," Rick said reassuringly. Michonne had expressed her nervousness about heading her troop to Rick earlier. But he knew that she was going to be amazing. She always was. Didn't take a genius to know she'd be great at leading, too.

"Ever ask Abraham who he voted for? I still don't know how Daryl lost. I know we had a leg up, with Lovitz's vote," Michonne asked. Rick nodded.

"Abraham voted for Daryl. Daryl voted for Pierce. Said he didn't want to do it." Michonne sighed, thinking that might've been the case.

"Rick…" she said softly as the lights came on in the common room, indicating that it was time to start the day.

"Hmmm?," he responded, his cheek still resting on her head.

"I got to go," she said as she tilted her head up to his.

"Just a few more minutes," he said smiling down at her as he claimed her lips with his own.

_**A/N: So okay. This chapter didn't quite go as I thought it would. But that's okay. Just means there's an extra chapter. ;) Here's what we've learned today. McCallister is an asshole. But we knew that already. We also learned that Michonne and Abraham have become TL's, and Daryl didn't want to be Vice President, although he could've been. I really think you guys are going to like Pierce though. Think of him as a Hershel like character, as I do, and you'll dig him, too. I couldn't give the group complete control over the Unit. Just didn't seem realistic enough to me. **_

_**So coming up: hopefully: Michonne will finally make that run and we will finally get a little more walker action. We'll see a lil' Daryl, and Rick will finally get that news I was talking about. Maybe. We'll see what happens. Hope you guys enjoyed the latest chapter. I'll be updating a lot more soon, seeing as I just put in my two weeks notice at work. The hubby got a great new job, which means I can focus my time and energy on the babies and my stories. ;) **_

_**Don't forget to review, Loves. I appreciate you all, especially those of you who faithfully review after every chapter. You know who you are. ;) **_


	25. Winning the War

The run had been a successful one. They had come across a doomsday preppers property, and the haul from the one house alone had made the three hour drive worth it. They'd found medicine and other first aid products, canned and jarred food, clean blankets and feminine products, weapons; and that was only the tip of the iceberg.

Michonne and Vincent teamed up for this mission, so that he could train her more efficiently. The two of them sat on the front porch of the large house that had offered them so much assistance. They were on first watch, taking the front of the house, while two others sat in back. They had a long day, and had even managed to collect an infected person for treatment, who was secured tightly in the back of their transport vehicle.

"So you and Stephanie," Michonne prodded after a few minutes of silence. Up until this point, Vincent had talked to Michonne of nothing other then the job at hand, and of course, about what she would be in charge of once he was gone. She looked at Vincent, gauging his reaction at the personal turn in conversation, and was happy to see a slight smile form at the side of his mouth.

"Not trying to be nosey, but I've seen the way you two look at each other," she said lightly, reaching into her bag and producing an apple. She took a large bite and grinned at him.

"I've known Stephanie since before all this," he said after a minute. "She married my best friend, and she hated me." Michonne laughed.

"She doesn't seem to hate you now." Now it was Vincent's turn to laugh.

"She has her moments," he said as he took a sip of water. "You and Rick?" Now it was Michonnes turn for her eyes to take on the gooey appearance of someone in love.

"He saved me from myself," she said simply. Vincent nodded, as if he understood that remark completely. There was no need for explanation.

"How's the baby?," Vincent asked, since they seemed to be getting all personal and junk.

"She's doing well," Michonne answered. "She's entered the third phase of treatment, and Manuela thinks she's got a really good chance."

"That's great," he said as they fell silent again for another second. "You know, it's things like that that make me still believe in a higher power," he said softly. "Seriously. What were the chances of us finding her at all, let alone finding her and saving her. If that doesn't show that God exists, I don't know what would."

Michonne didn't say anything. That was a struggle she had been having with herself since the beginning of this whole plague. She had thought of all the people she had lost from the beginning, and then she had thought of those that she had found, over and over again, when the chances of it happening had been almost nil. Maybe God and the Devil were at war, and they were using the Earth as their battle field. Michonne still wasn't sure who was winning.

They heard a loud scream and shot to their feet, heading around the house and toward the noise. Michonne and Vincent stopped in their tracks, a heard of at least 100 only feet away. _Looks like it's the Devil's turn to declare war, _Michonne thought as she reached behind her and grabbed her katana, prepared to fight on God's side.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Daryl couldn't sleep. He'd been having that damn nightmare again. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her in front of him, and he just couldn't do it tonight. So, instead of sitting in the bed with his eyes open, he had decided to walk around the Unit. It made him to feel better to tell himself that he was doing something productive.

He was rounding the corner, level 12, when he heard a banging in one of the residential rooms. He smirked to himself, thinking that someone was obviously having a better night then him, but as he got closer he could also hear the sound of a woman crying. Another loud bang, followed by a muffled, "Please, don't," had him hurrying his step and listening for the room in which the sounds escaped.

"Shut up," he heard a man grumble through the door he was closest to. Daryl picked up his foot, and without thinking, slammed it through the door. The man inside the room jumped back, his bare chest heaving, and revealed a tiny woman who had huddled herself in the corner.

"This is none of your business," the man spit at him, walking forward with his finger pointed toward Daryl.

"Boy you don't quit pointing that finger at me I'm gonna chop it off and shove it up yer ass," he said stepping forward. The man put his finger down. Daryl continued to walk toward the man, ignoring the woman crying in the corner, until his forehead pressed against his. "Whatchu think yer doin' boy? Hittin' on a woman? Why don'tchu hit me, huh?," he said angrily and he continued to push his forehead against his until he had the man pressed against the wall.

"Is none of your business," the man muttered again, this time with a little less enthusiasm. Daryl felt a hand on his shoulder and turned quickly to see the woman standing behind him. She was small, delicate looking, and had two fresh red marks across her cheeks.

"Please don't hurt him. Don't hurt Zeke," she whispered to Daryl, clearly ashamed of herself and of the situation.

Daryl stepped back and turned toward her, leaving her piece of shit old man against the wall.

"Why you let him do that ya?," Daryl said to her, trying to get her to see that this was not the way she should be treated. She lowered her eyes. "No man should be touchin' ya with a hateful hand," he said, thinking back to his own childhood and the many fights he witnessed between his parents. Daryl might've been a lot of things, but he would never hurt a woman. He'd never be like his pa. And he'd never let someone else do it either. The girl said nothing, just fiddled with her hands and kept her eyes to the ground.

Daryl turned back toward Zeke, just in time to meet his fist with his face. Daryl was taken by surprise and stumbled backward, lifting his hand to his cheek and vaguely tasting the coppery taste of blood in his mouth. He licked his lips, wiped off his mouth, and turned murderous eyes toward Zeke.

"Big mistake, boy," Daryl said as he threw his first punch and hit him under the chin, the next connecting to the side of his face. The woman stepped back, sobbing, but Daryl paid her no mind. He hit the man until he fell, and then stomped him in the stomach. Zeke curled into a ball and sobbed. "Mary…," he gurgled through the blood in his mouth. The woman, Mary, ran to his side and glared up at Daryl angrily. Daryl rolled his eyes and pulled the woman off of Zekes side.

"Zeke, or whatever the hell your name is, you're under arrest…"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Michonne stepped quickly in front of the others.

"Hurry," she commanded. "Go get the others," she said to the two people who were taking watch out back. They were too close. There was no way they could outrun them without letting them completely envelope the property, and with it everything they had acquired on the run. They needed to fight for it, or die trying.

Vince pointed his gun toward the herd, and began to fire as Michonne rushed up to the first one and decapitated it with her katana. There would be no searching for curable victims in this herd. This was only about survival.

There had been only 13 of them who had gone on the run, and soon they were all behind Michonne, assembled in a combat line, and firing at the crowd, as they had practiced over and over again. A walker had snuck up on the side of them, and Michonne turned just in time to slice the top part of its head off, right before it bitten into Vince's neck. Vince looked stunned and nodded a thanks toward Michonne as they continued to fight the diseased.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Rick and Carl were sitting at the small desk in their room, going over Carl's homework for the night. It was amazing that they were doing something so normal as homework, and Rick was enjoying every minute of it.

"It's a quadrangle, see?," Rick said pointing out something in the math book that had been given to Carl to reference. Carl nodded and made the note on his paper, trying to not be annoyed by his father, which was rare these days. Then again, the only people who didn't annoy Carl was Casey. Even Michonne had been bugging him lately.

Rick noticed, but knew it was more then likely just his teenage angst at work, and didn't pay much mind to it. But he had also noticed that Carl had gotten calmer since being able to see Judith, and for that Rick was grateful.

There was a knock at the door, and Rick turned to Carl quizzically, thinking maybe it was one of his friends, but Carl shrugged in response and continued his homework. Rick walked to the door, and opened it to Manuela and Eugene.

He was worried, insanely worried, until he noticed the two of them were smiling. So he half smiled in return and raised an eyebrow curiously, waiting for the two of them to say something.

"She's awake," Eugene declared.

"And she's asking for you," Manuela contributed. Carl was standing behind Rick, having gotten up when he noticed who was at the door. Rick smiled.

"I'm on my way."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

All 13 of them had made it through the herd. No one had been bitten, and no one had been injured. Michonne was a bloody mess and walked through the piles of walkers, finishing them off, one by one. There weren't many, but some had gotten stuck under others, and she couldn't just leave them there to struggle for eternity.

Everyone else was loading the haul into their trucks. They had decided that they would just head back tonight. All the gunfire was sure to draw in more walkers, and they definitely weren't going to stay around to greet them.

"Michonne. We're ready," Vincent called from the front of the house. Michonne looked at the group of the dead and smiled to herself, grateful that God had won the battle, and wondering who would win the war.

_**A/N: Okay. Here's what we've learned: Judith's awake. No one got hurt during Michonnes run and they came out with a lot of cool stuff. And our beloved Daryl got to take some of his aggression out on a piece of shit wife beater. **_

_**Coming up: The next chapters going to time jump a little bit to 17 days later. We'll officially see Judith as Judith. SP Johnson will return with something special, and we will say goodbye to a few characters…At least for a little while. **_

_**Hope you guys are excited as I am about the ending of UNIT 15, Part One. It's coming in the next few chapters and I'm psyched! Don't forget to review. I like knowing what you all think and it just brightens my day to read them.**_


	26. What you risk it for

_**17 days later:**_

"It's good to see you again, Sir," Rick said as he greeted S.P Johnson on the helipad. Stephanie and Rick were waiting for him in her suite, or he supposed now, _his_ suite, when they heard the helicopter approaching.

Johnson reached out, shaking Rick's hand as he came down the steps.

"You, too, President Grimes. A pleasure, indeed." He turned to Stephanie then and held out his arms, which she went into willingly, greeting him as if she would greet her father. "I'm so happy you've decided to take me up on my offer," he whispered into the top of her head. She pulled back and smiled at him. "As is the rest of the Unit Presidents," he said as if reading her mind. Stephanie had been worried about what the others would think of her training to become SP, and she found comfort in his words, knowing that he would never lie to her.

They pulled away from each other, and Johnson beckoned his two security guards to follow them. When they had re-entered the suite, Johnson turned to Stephanie and the two men.

"I would like to have a few minutes alone with Rick, if you don't mind," he said to them. Stephanie smiled softly, knowing he was bound to get the same speech that she had gotten when she became Unit President, and then led the security guards out to the hallway.

Rick sat on the couch, nervously twiddling his thumbs in his lap, as SP Johnson took the seat across from him.

"First, I'd like to thank you for agreeing to take on this very crucial role inside home Unit 15. Stephanie never would've agreed to go with me if she didn't believe the Unit was in good hands." Rick nodded. "Also, I like to have a little talk with every Unit President before they begin their term. If I know Stephanie, I know she has trained you well, and I have no doubt that you will make a superior Unit President. You and your group have made a substantial contribution the operation of this Unit, and to how we run the rest of the World Units. How are you feeling about everything?," he asked, seeming genuinely interested. "I know it's all happened rather quick. It's a lot to take on, and it doesn't come without it's fair share of risks. Are you prepared to risk your life for the well being of this Unit?"

"Well, if I'm being honest, Sir, I'm kind of overwhelmed by the whole situation. Who wouldn't be? I have led groups of people before, but no where near this magnitude. But I had this good friend of mine tell me once, '_You walk outside, you risk your life. You take a drink of water, you risk your life. Now a days, you breathe, you risk your life. You don't have a choice. The only think you can chose is what you're risking it for._' " Johnson nodded, the words seeming as profound to him as they had been to Rick when he had heard Hershel speak them for the first time.

"Sounds like a very smart man," Johnson said, smiling across at Rick.

"He was," Rick said, remembering the old man fondly.

"I'd like to have dinner tonight with you, Stephanie, Vincent and your group before we leave. I've already made the arrangements.." Rick nodded.

"It'd be an honor, Sir," he said standing as Johnson did and extending his hand. They shook hands and Johnson clamped Rick on the shoulder with his free hand.

"Once again I thank you for your service, President Grimes. You're risking your life for the best of reasons." Rick nodded, thanking him briefly, knowing that he was right.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"You sure I can be down here?," Casey asked Carl as the elevator stopped on level B. Carl smiled at her as she took his hand in hers nervously. He blushed briefly before pulling out Ricks access card and swiping it for the doors to open.

Carl had told Casey about Judith the same day she had woken up, and she was so excited for him and supportive. He couldn't think of a better way to show her how much he appreciated her friendship then by bringing her down to meet Judy in person. She had definitely heard enough about her.

"It'll be fine," he whispered as he walked Casey down Judiths hallway, to her private room. He knew there would be a nurse with her at all times, but over the last couple of weeks he had gotten to know them pretty well. They were nice, and liked Carl, and he had no doubt that they would let him sneak in Casey, if only for a few minutes. He knocked on the door, and the nurse opened it quickly with a finger to her lips.

"Shhh…," she whispered. "I just got her to sleep." Carl nodded as the nurse took in Carl's friend. "You know she's not supposed to be here, Carl," the nurse said sternly. Carl pouted.

"Aww, C'mon, Kelly. My girlfriend really wants to meet her. Can't we just come in for a few minutes? I'll never tell anyone, I swear." Carl noticed Casey blush at being called his girlfriend, and the thought that it made her squirm a little delighted him. He also noticed the way she gripped his hand tighter when he said it.

Kelly sighed and looked between the two of them.

"If I get in trouble for this, I swear to God, Carl…," she said glaring at him affectionately. Carl smiled.

"You won't, Kel. I swear," he said cutting her off.

"You have 5 minutes. I'm going to use the washroom." Carl nodded and then she was gone.

Carl led Casey into the room and up to Judiths bed. Judy was sleeping peacefully, curled up on her side, sucking her thumb innocently. The room was a big change from what it had been a few weeks before. They had brought in a ton of toys and books, and the gang had colored pictures with Judith a few days earlier and they hung on the walls brightly and haphazardly. Almost looked like a normal little girls room now.

"She's beautiful," Casey said standing next to Carl and looking down at a sleeping Judy.

"She is," he said staring adoringly at his little sister, silently promising her that he'd never let anything bad happen to her ever again.

"So your girlfriend, huh?," she asked, smiling up at Carl after a few seconds of silence. Carl blushed and looked down at her and shrugged. Casey grinned at him and leaned up on her tip toes and kissed him softly on the mouth. Carl closed his eyes and tried not to act over excited at the form of affection. It had been their first kiss, _his first kiss_, and it had been absolutely perfect.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dinner had been nice, but brief. Johnson had told them all that they had to leave early, as he was expected at Unit 2 by morning. All of Ricks group stood on the roof top saying their farewells.

"Make sure you keep your nose clean out there," Abraham said to Eugene. "And don't let no one talk you into getting rid of that mullet." The group laughed as they all took turns hugging him.

"I'll be in touch, guys," he said as he climbed aboard the helicoptor and squished in the back seat. Would be a tight ride, but he was excited all the same.

"Take care of her," Michonne said to Vincent in regards to Stephanie as they exchanged a brief hug. They had gotten to be pretty good friends over the last couple of weeks, and she was going to miss him. He nodded and waved quickly at the rest of the group before he climbed in next to Eugene.

Stephanie hugged the other members of the group and then they stepped back, knowing how close she had become to Rick, so that they could have a few minutes to say good bye.

"Thank you," she whispered to him as she took his hands in hers.

"For what?," he asked quizzically. "I should be thanking you. You gave us a home, you protected us, and you've changed the course of our lives for the better."

"You're welcome," she said, smiling. "But I need to thank you for helping me realize that I was capable of this, of doing something more. I don't think I would've gotten to this point without you." Rick smiled and pulled her in for a strong hug. He would definitely miss her.

"I'll call you soon," she promised as she backed up the steps and into the waiting helicopter. SP Johnson followed her up the steps, turning once to wave back at the group. They watched as the helicopter started and lifted slowly into the air, waving at them the whole time.

"So what do we do now, Mr. President," Michonne asked as she came up to Ricks side and slid her arm around his waist as he rested his on her shoulder, pulling her close to him.

"You know," he said staring down at her playfully. "I got a pretty nice penthouse suite now."

"What's your point?," she asked quizzically.

"You should move in there with us." Michonne looked shocked at the idea. They hadn't even slept together yet. " We could have our own room," he whispered into her ear seductively.

"I like where this is going…" she said softly, looking up at him and grinning widely. He took her mouth with his quickly, and pulled back, looking into the eyes of the woman he loved. He liked where this was going, too.

_**AN: Feels like it took me all day to write this. I hope you guys enjoyed it. There only about…eh… three to four more chapters until Part One is finished. Are ya'll as excited as I am to FINALLY get to that amazingly amazing cliffhanger I was talking about?**_

_**Coming up: Another time jump. One month later. We're going to check in with every remaining member of our group at Unit 15 and see how they're doing. It's gonna be fun, and I think I might surprise you with a thing or two.**_

_**PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW! Thanks, guys. ;)**_


	27. Possibilities

_**A/N: This chapter is rated M for smut. Enjoy!**_

Maggie stood examining herself in the bathroom mirror, clad only in her underwear. She looked the same, really. Maybe her breasts appeared a little swollen, her cheeks a little more flush. All in all, Glenn thought as he strolled in to stand behind her, she was absolutely stunning.

Life in the Unit had been beneficial to both of them. The hungry hollow in their cheeks had finally filled in, and their stomachs had perhaps gotten a little softer as well. He wrapped his arms around her bare waist and rested his head on her shoulder. She smiled at him through the mirror as she brought her hands to his arms and gently began trailing feather light fingers on his skin.

"How long do you think it will take?," she asked as she rested her head against his. He bent his head down and began to rain kisses on her shoulder gently.

"For what?," he asked in between.

"For me to get fat," she said giggling, still amazed at the idea that she had a new life growing inside of her.

"You won't get fat," he said reassuringly. "You'll get even more beautiful." He spread his hands across her still flat stomach as they looked into each others eyes through the mirror, each mesmerized by the turn their lives had made in the last couple months.

Before they had arrived at the Unit, they were struggling every day to survive. Maggie had never even entertained the thought of children, knowing that there was no way she could protect them out there. Especially after what had happened to Judith. But now they were all safe. Judith was safe. And everything that wasn't possible before, suddenly was again.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Carl and Casey lay sprawled out on her bed, laying on their stomachs and flipping through the pages of a comic that Michonne had found for him on her latest run. Casey was trying to understand the love Carl had for his precious comics, but he was only boring her. Casey didn't mind, though. She just enjoyed being with him. Whether they were reading comics or just hanging out in the common room and talking to people from class, as long as they were together, she was happy.

"I just don't get it," she said, peaking over at him. "It's, like, so unrealistic. Like a person with super human abilities could ever really exist." Carl laughed and nudged her shoulder with his.

"Oh, right. And Zombies are so realistic, too," he said sarcastically. She stuck her tongue out at him and he closed the book quickly, before flipping around and tickling her. She laughed and tried to tickle him back, but he was bigger then her, stronger, and before she knew it, he had her pinned underneath him.

"No fair," she said pouting. "You have, like…muscle and stuff." Carl laughed, still holding her arms down. He bent down and kissed her mouth quickly, and then her right cheek, and then her left, before just began manically kissing her all over her face. She laughed and struggled beneath him, enjoying their little game.

The door swung open and Lucas stood staring at them.

"Jeez, Grimes," he said as he walked inside and plopped on a chair. "Get a room, why don't ya?" Carl rolled his eyes before climbing off of Casey and throwing a pillow at his friend.

"We had a room, dick, and you just came barging into it." Lucas caught the pillow and shrugged.

"Lock the door next time." Casey pulled herself up and straightened her clothes. Carl sat next to her against the headboard, and she rested her head on his shoulder.

"So what are we doing tonight, nerds?," Lucas asked as he picked up an old magazine and idly flipped through it before tossing it back to the table.

"Judy's coming home tonight," Carl answered. "You guys can come up if you want. My dad said it was okay." Lucas' eyes widened.

"Seriously? I've never gotten to see the Presidential Pad before. I'm in."

"What are we doing in the mean time?," Casey asked, looking between the two of them. They had developed a strange friendship with Lucas, which consisted mostly of making fun of each other and getting into trouble.

But it was normal, and Carl enjoyed feeling normal. Hell, he hadn't had to shoot his gun in months. And that alone, was great. He had never thought he would be able to feel like _just_ a kid again. Didn't think it was possible. But here, _in this place_, everything that wasn't possible before, suddenly was again.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Shh…," Carol whispered in the darkness of her room to her familiar male companion. "Someone's going to hear you and our cover will be blown." He laughed and nuzzled his face into her neck, placing little kisses where ever his mouth met.

"Let them hear me," Abraham said. "I'm tired of hiding it anyway. Now that Michonne's moved up to the penthouse with Rick, I was thinking maybe I could move in here with you." Carol looked at him, raising her eyebrow, and wondering if he was serious.

Carol and Abraham had been seeing each other for the last month or so. It started when he had brought her lunch one day at her classroom. They made plans to eat dinner together, and it just went from there. Everybody needed someone sometimes, and Abraham had made her feel safe and beautiful again. A far cry from her piece of shit husband.

They hadn't told the group about them yet. Carol didn't want it to overshadow the honey moon faze they seemed to be in. As long as they were hiding out, just enjoying what _they _thought of each other, without having to worry about what the others thought, she figured the two of them would stay happy.

She never thought she would feel this way for someone again. Didn't think it was possible. But she had learned a few months before, when they had arrived at Unit 15, that the world was not without its possibilities.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I'm home, doll. But I only have a little while before I have a phone conference with Steph," Rick said as he barged into their suite. Michonne had been washing their dishes at the kitchen sink, and if Rick wasn't thinking about stripping her down before, the sight of her being so domestic definitely would've brought his mind there anyway.

He walked up behind Michonne and kissed her neck, reaching forward between her arms and turning off the water. Michonne smiled and moved her head to the side, allowing him more room for his mouth to roam. Slowly, she turned her head until his lips brushed hers lightly.

Her body shuddered with the contact. He turned her around and puller her closer to him with his free hand, the other cupping her face possessively. Michonne's arms came around his neck, and she poured herself into the kiss. Her body was like an explosion of fireworks.

Every time they had been together, she swore she was feeling sensations she hadn't felt in years. She tingled from head to foot and Rick awoke something inside of her that had lie dormant until he had saved her.

She brought her hands to the hem of his t-shirt and pulled up. He lifted his arms in response and in seconds she had him bare in front of her. She pulled back a moment to admire him. Then bringing her eyes to his, she brought her hand to his chest and slowly lowered it down his stomach to the button of his jeans.

She smiled at him and ran her tongue over her full, pouty lips and Rick thought he might just explode right there. She undid the fasten on his jeans and began to tug them down when he caught her hands and pulled her back up to him. It was his turn to admire, to explore, and he refused to rush through everything and miss out on that opportunity. He might have a call to make, but he would never rush these moments with Michonne. He lived for them.

His hands grabbed her shirt from behind and lifted it over her head, revealing her perfectly rounded breasts in a surprisingly normal and yet incredibly appealing white lace bra. He cupped a breast in his hand before lowering himself to take in the other with his mouth. She moaned out loud and could feel him smile against the thin fabric of her bra. With expertise, he unsnapped the back of the bra with one hand, and then pulled back to toss it on the floor.

He touched her hard nipple with the tip of his tongue, kissing her slowly until he lowered his head to her stomach. Slowly, he lowered himself, kissing her all the way down her belly, his hands finding the button on her jeans and popping it open easily. He pulled away the denim and ran his fingers over the rim of her panties. He felt her shudder and grabbed her backside, pulling her closer to him.

Michonne felt like she could no longer stand. Her legs began to tremble, she was sure he had felt it, but her head was in a pleasant haze and she couldn't find the energy to care. He gently grabbed her from his kneeling position and pulled her down, so she straddled his lap. His lips met hers and their tongues danced as her fingers wound their way into his hair. Slowly, he lay her down in front of him on the kitchen floor and climbed on top of her, his erection pressing gently into her center.

The passion he had for her was evident in his urgent kisses and caresses. Michonne had never felt so beautiful, so wanted, so free, as she did when Rick made love to her. He lifted her and pulled her jeans down, and then positioned himself back on top of her. She panted, waiting.

Michonne watched as he visually took her in. The matching panties she wore were slightly damp with anticipation, and it turned him on all the more. She reached up, pulling on the band of his jeans. He got the point and quickly removed them before crawling back to her.

Michonne kissed him everywhere her lips would reach. He pulled her panties down and threw them to the floor with the rest of their clothing. Before either of them could even think, their naked bodies intertwined, meeting each other in every way possible.

Rick was so gentle, loving, as she knew he always would be. She had never seen or felt anything as wonderful as him loving her. He knew that he never would again. Michonne was soft, yielding and perfect. She watched as he moved over her and lost herself in his eyes. She knew there would never be anyone else that made her feel as desirable. They expected nothing short of amazing when they made love, and that was exactly what they had gotten every single time.

When it was over, they lay panting side by side, comfortably cuddling on the hard tile. Content, satisfied smiles lit up their faces. Neither of them said a word for a few minutes. It was unnecessary. They just held each other in the darkness, listening as their heart beats calmed to a low drum.

"Michonne," he whispered after a few minutes.

"Hmm?," she responded as she turned to look at him.

"Marry me," he said simply, his eyes scanning her face for a reaction. She smiled and kissed him softly.

"Okay," she responded, knowing that he would be hers for the rest of their lives either way. It was amazing, but this was the place of possibilities, and they had every one they could imagine just by being together.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_**A/N: So there it is, guys and gals. The moment you'd been waiting for. Seeing as this chapter took place a month later, it's obvious that this wasn't their first time. But I wanted you guys to have a little smut in your lives, so I thought I'd throw it in there. I'm not too great with sex scenes, so I hope I did it justice. Let me know how I did. We have TWO chapters left in Part One, my friends, and I hope you enjoyed this one as much as I did. ;)**_

_**Coming up: A day in the life of Daryl Dixon. No. I did not forget about him. He just deserves his own chapter. We'll find out how Stephanie, Vincent, Eugene and Johnson are faring as well. And once again, we're jumping forward in time… Let's say.. Oh… 2 months. **_

_**Don't forget to review guys! Let's me know who I'm writing for, other then me. More tomorrow! Or maybe even tonight if I get enough love from ya'll. ;)**_


	28. The Savior of all Things Worth Saving

**A/N: So upon rereading this chapter, I've decided that it needed to be refreshed. I was kind of in a rush this afternoon, and there were a few little slip ups that needed my attention... So now, it's better. ENJOY!**

2 months later.

A day in the life of Daryl Dixon

This nightmare was not unlike the others, but it was slightly different in it's own right. The house was burning around them, and he was searching for her through the flames, calling her name. He would catch a glimpse of blonde hair around a corner, the heel of a boot, but he never saw her face, just continued to chase her.

"Beth!," he screamed as he finally saw her from behind, standing in front of him. She turned slowly, and looked at him, afraid, lifting a finger to her mouth to shush him. He reached his hand out, trying to reach her. She frowns as the walls rip away from the burning room. Beth is swept up in a breeze, floating further and further away from him, until it's only her voice that lingers.

"You're gonna miss me so bad when I'm gone, Daryl Dixon," her voice says, _her voice always says_, as the nightmare lifts and Daryls left awake, fighting to catch his breath.

When his breathing evened, he rolled off the side of the bed, reaching for his uniform blues, and prepared to start his day. That morning they were all meeting in Ricks suite for breakfast. Michonne was cooking, and any time that woman was cooking, he'd be there to eat.

Carol knocked on the door. He knew it was her, because well…It was always her. She was usually followed by Abraham who would nonchalantly come out of his bedroom door like he wasn't just in Carols bed. They hadn't come out yet to the group yet, but Daryl knew what was happening between them. Pretty sure everyone knew. He wasn't stupid, and those fools were as obvious as they could be without right out saying anything.

"Ready, Pookie?," Carol asked as she leaned against the door frame. Daryl pulled at the collar of his navy blue shirt and grumbled, reaching to the table to grab his bow and sling it over his back. Carol frowned at him, noticing the bags under his eyes that indicated that he still hadn't been sleeping right. She knew he had nightmares a lot more frequently, but no one knew what they were about. Wasn't like Daryl was an open book of personal information or anything.

He walked from the room, Carol closing the door behind him, and Abraham lagging behind them. The others were already waiting for them in the common area. Lucas and Casey joined them as well, and they all prepared to go up to the top level together.

It was quiet for a Sunday morning. Normally, the kids of the Unit were running ragged, giving him a headache before he even started his day. He found himself thankful for the Saturday night movie the night before that kept them all awake, and in turn sleeping, later then usual.

Carl answered the door, smiling at the 7 of them letting them inside. They all went their separate ways, Daryl's eyes searching low to the ground for the one face that would make his morning little better. He heard her little feet running, before he saw her turn the corner.

"Darry!," little Judith exclaimed before she ran up to him and threw her little arms around his legs. Daryl smiled and looked down at her. She smiled back at him and then lifted her hands up, reaching for him to grab her. He bent down and picked her up, hugging her tightly against him.

"Mornin' lil' ass kicker," he said affectionately, as he walked further into Rick's suite. He still couldn't get over how well the cure had worked, and how little Judith was still just…Judith. She was perfect, completely, and he thanked whatever God was lingering around up there that they were lucky enough to have her back. "Sleep good last night?," he asked as he sat on the couch and settled her on his knee.

"Gid'yup,' she said bouncing on his knee and ignoring his question. "Gid'yup." Daryl chuckled and began to bounce his knee up and down as Judith giggled and said "Gid'yup! Gid'yup!" After a few seconds he stopped bouncing and she frowned at him. "Gid'yup!," she demanded, pouting. Daryl smiled and kissed her forehead.

"No more giddy up," he said gently. "Don't wanna shake yer brain lose." Judith pouted and hopped down from his knee, spotting Maggie and Glenn across the room.

"Mag! Mag! Gwen! Gid'yup!," Daryl shook his head, admiring her ability to go after what she wanted, and walked to the kitchen. He leaned against the door frame and watched as Michonne poured scrambled eggs into a serving bowl.

"Almost done in here," she said, not looking up. Daryl laughed to himself, the sight of Michonne hustling around the kitchen instead of in a battle field still amusing to him. She grabbed a rag off the sink and began to wipe up a small egg spill.

"Missed a spot," he told her jokingly, which earned him a glare in response. Michonne finished wiping up the mess and then threw the rag at him. Daryl caught it and dropped it on the counter.

"Ey' Daryl!," he heard Rick yell from his bedroom.

"Yeah?," he said walking in the room and over to Rick where he sat sitting at a desk in the corner.

"Tell me what you think a' this?," Rick said, pointing at some blue prints he had recently constructed with the help of Troop 7. They were planning on building a greenhouse so that they could grow vegetables more efficiently in the winter months. Daryl stood over his shoulder and bit his thumb nail while he looked over the prints.

"Looks good. Cept' I think ya might have better luck running the electric through this area here," he said pointing at the paper. "Ground's softer. Diggin' won't be as hard." Rick nodded and made notes on the side of the paper.

"Ya'll decided when yer gonna have the weddin' yet?," Daryl asked, a slightly teasing tone in his voice. He was genuinely happy for Rick and Michonne. They were great together, and he was glad that his two best friends had found happiness in each other. If he couldn't be happy, at least they were.

"Sometime next month, I think. Before the weather gets too cold. She wants to hold it outside in the garden." Daryl grunted, not really knowing what else to say. Michonne screamed for them to gather for breakfast, and Rick stood up quickly and headed for the door.

"Damn, brotha," Daryl said. "Move any faster when she calls ya, ya might just trip oer' yer own two feet. Must got it bad." Rick shrugged, not caring that he did.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Breakfast had been nice, but it was time to get to work. Daryl walked onto level 2 and into troop 3 and was immediately bombarded every day with people needing something. Always _something_.

"Morning, Mr. Dixon," the new level secretary greeted as he walked from the elevator.

"Whatcha got for me, Darla," he answered as he walked up to the desk. Darla took Daryl in appreciatively, as she always did. Daryl knew the girl had a crush on him, but he was in no way interested in getting involved with anyone, let alone someone he would have to see every day.

"TL Lovitz asks that you release the inmates in D, and go over the list here," she said handing him a slip of paper, "and determine who should be let go in M." Daryl nodded. D was what was known as the drunk tank, and it was usually full come Sunday mornings. Cell block M was full of petty crime and misdemeanors. He figured he'd be able to weed a few of those fellows out as well. "When your done, Lovitz would like you to meet with him in his office to go over the week ahead." Daryl nodded, shoving the piece of paper in his back pocket, and heading for D.

"Mr. Dixon!," Hal Jones called as he ran down the hall. Hal was a nice kid, did good work, and had never gotten on Daryls bad side. Same couldn't be said for everyone in the Troop. He'd had to put his fair share of idiots in their place over the last couple months.

"Whatcha need, Jones," he responded, stopping.

"I'm supposed to go down to the ground to survey the Soldiers. Lovitz wants to make sure everyone is standing guard as they should. I guess we almost had a breach last night or something, I don't know. Anyway," he continued as he rolled his eyes. "Was wondering if you wanted to switch? I'll release D and M, and you can go hang with Abraham and patrol the yard?" Daryl shrugged, not wanting to deal with the paperwork that came with releasing prisoners, and gladly reached into his pocket for the list.

"Lovitz asks, it was my idea," Daryl said, not wanting the kid to get into trouble.

"Cool. Thanks, Mr. Dixon," Hal said, smiling at Daryl as if he was the savior of all things worth saving.

"Don't mention it. But if I hear you call me one more time, I'm gon' chop yer tongue off." Hal blushed.

"Yes, Sir. Thanks, Mr... Daryl"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Johnson passed away last night," Stephanie told Rick sadly during their daily phone call. Rick knew it was coming, but it didn't make it any less devastating to them all.

"I'm sorry, Steph," he said sadly. "So what's going to happen now?"

"I'll be holding a presidential address tonight, so please gather the Unit at 9 pm your time." Rick nodded, even though he knew she couldn't see him.

"I've declared Vincent as my Vice. We'll tell the other World Units tonight."

"How you holding up?," Rick said, concerned for his friend.

"I knew it was getting close. I'm just grateful we had the time together that we did. I learned so much from him."

"He was a good man. And you're going to get through this just fine, Supreme President Malone."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Daryl walked outside and took in a deep breath of fresh air. He didn't get enough sun these days. He usually worked until the sun had gone down, and then he would sneak outside for a smoke or something, when he had some, which was a rarity in itself. But it was nice to feel the heat from the sun on his face.

He walked over to where he knew Abraham was stationed and climbed up the stairs to the top of the gate.

"Why'd I have to hear about an almost issue from Hal Jones? We were all at breakfast this morning. Coulda said something then." Abraham shrugged.

"Didn't want to worry anyone. Namely Rick. It was taken care of before it had even become an issue."

"Yeah, but the issue now is that Lovitz wants us to patrol the soldiers and make sure you all are doing yer jobs."

"I fired Sampson. He fell asleep and a herd got a little close. He's been moved to Agriculture. Ain't no worse punishment then working for McCallister." Daryl laughed, knowing it was the truth.

Daryl climbed back down the stairs, after bullshitting with Abraham a little longer, and walked around the perimeter. He checked the gates and made sure there were no weak spots. He kicked a chair that held another sleeping soldier, and the soldier shot to his feet, saluting Daryl. The only thing stopping him from tearing into that soldier was the fact that he was positioned on the inside of the wall, and not on the top. Daryl pointed to his eyes and then toward the wall. The soldier nodded and stood strait, hands behind his back, once again on watch.

He had come full circle, not seeing anything that concerned him. He was getting ready to go back into the building and head up to lunch with Lovitz, when he heard Abraham scream, "We got survivors! Open the gates!"

Daryl turned, watching as the soldiers ran to the pulls and the gate opened slowly. Coming through the doors was a group of at least twenty, being led by a woman on a white horse. She had a black hood over her face, but Daryl could see that she was small framed, and a little lock of blonde hair had escaped from the hood.

His eyes took in the other survivors. No children. A few battered looking, dirty women walked slowly in behind the rider, and the men stood behind them protectively, holding their weapons of choice. Once they were all inside, the doors were closed with a thud. Daryl stepped out of the shadows of the skyscraper and into the light of the sun once again, as the rider descended from her mare and lifted the thick black hood from her head.

Was he dreaming again? Could it really, truly be _her_?

"Beth!," he screamed at her, getting her attention instantly. Their eyes locked for what seemed like forever, before either of them attempted to move, or even breathe.

**A/N: SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO? Was it as great as I thought it was going to be? Were you surprised? I have one more mini-cliff hanger coming up in the Epilogue, which will really be just a mini chapter, and I'll get that out tonight after work. Shouldn't take too long to write. **

**Please let me know what you're thinking! ****_Unit 15: Part Two: New Arrivals_**** is coming soon! Should I continue on or should I go ahead and just start something new? Let me know ya'll wanna read it, k? Review!**


	29. Epilogue: Do you know her?

Beth had said they were all good people, and to Rick , that was enough. But there were procedures that needed following now. Stephanie made sure he knew exactly what needed to be done when something like this happened.

So he had collected them all into a large conference room, and provided them what he was sure seemed like a feast. He remembered the hunger that accompanied being on the road for so long. While they ate, he gave them the same spiel that Stephanie had given them not too long ago. He told them about the Unit, the ins and outs, and discussed briefly what would be expected of them while they were there.

Then, when their stomachs were full, he told them about the cure, and they rejoiced amongst themselves. Once the celebrations quieted, he passed out the mental stability questionnaires for their records, and for placement within the Unit.

When the last person finished, he relinquished them all into the capable hands of Carol, who had agreed to come and bring them to the community closet for fresh sets of clothes, and show them to their rooms.

One man, however, lingered behind.

"Excuse me, Mr. President," he said gruffly to Rick. The man was younger, but years on the road had made him look way older then his years. A full beard occupied his face, and Rick could see that he favored his right leg over his left as he walked toward him.

"Yes, Sir. How can I help you?," Rick said as he shuffled the stack of papers into a folder.

"I was wonderin' how I could go about seeing if my wife is here. You see, I'm from Washington originally, but a couple years ago I was attacked on the outskirts of town, and… long story short, I ended up a couple hundred miles away."

"What's your name, son?," Rick asked sympathetically, knowing that there was a million in one chance that his wife was there.

"Ian. My wife's name is Stephanie. Stephanie Malone. Do you know her?"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_**A/N: Heehee. Had to throw that little tid bit in there. I am definitely going to continue on with this story, in Part 2. I made a kick ass cover for it and everything. Might be a few days until I can get the first chapter up. But here's what you have to look forward to in Part 2. Richonne wedding, anyone? And of course, obviously, we're going to get some Bethyl action. (Even if No Bethyl Please doesn't approve. Thank you, guest, btw, for sticking up for me. ;) Of course, we will see all of our beloved TWD characters. It will flow kind of like this one, except our main focus will be on Daryl, instead of Rick, this time around. We will also see what happens with Stephanie, Vincent and Ian. What did you guys think of that btw… Do you like Stephanie enough yet to care that her dead husband isn't so dead after all? LoL. **_

_**I also want to say a brief shout out to all the people who regularly review and view my story. I look forward to watching the numbers jump every day. Of course, every guest that reviews is appreciated. Thank you guys. And then there's these people : Alex311, Ajax, DarylDixon'sLover, KyannaLashae, literaturechick, Kam, Blkpunk311, Deni73, and codedriver who have read the story from start to finish, review faithfully and inspire me to write more. If I didn't mention you, it doesn't mean I don't appreciate you. I honestly love every review that I receive, even the bad ones, because they really do make me want to write more and more. ;) XOXO Keep a look out for Unit 15. Part 2. I'll edit this chapter to let you know when it's done**_

_**Update: I put up an a/n as the first chapter of the next installment of Unit 15. The actual first chapter will be up tonight or tomorrow morning. It's titled: Unit 15. Part Two: New Arrivals... **_


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